Hostage
by TheVideoGamer
Summary: The Empire has fallen. Lavrentiy Beria arrives among the chaos to take what he wants most, and Tanya is less than pleased to find herself as his "spoil of war". He doesn't think it'll be too difficult to break her spirit, but Tanya will stop at nothing to resist him. Not a story for the faint of heart. Minor light novel spoilers.
1. Part I

_**Content Warning/Disclaimer**_

 _This story touches on some very serious topics, such as physical abuse and suggestions of sexual abuse. Please read at your own discretion. Needless to say, I as the writer condone NONE of this. All characters and events are fictional._

 _If you don't know much about the Youjo Senki light novels and haven't heard of the fictional character Lavrentiy Beria (Loliya), you might find it interesting to check out his wikia page. Who he is will be explained in-fanfic as well, though._

 _[Minor light novel spoilers ahead!]_

* * *

She got no warning that he was coming for her.

They were all huddled around the drafting table in the Strategic HQ. Rerugen had his hands on his face. Zettour was leaned over the table, his teeth clenched. Rudersdorf had sat back in a chair and begun to pray.

Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff was thinking back on how the war had been lost.

"I knew this would happen..." she mumbled, raking her hands through her hair. "None of you listened to me! I knew how to use that victory two years ago, but we lost it…"

"It's too late for 'what-if's..." Rerugen said, his voice gruff. "But I'm sorry I never believed you."

Just then, there was a bout of screaming - followed by a hellfire of bullet rounds from the hallway.

Everyone looked up and stared at each other. _No_ one, however, knew what was going on.

Tanya's eyes widened. "Wait, Serebryakov was going to get more coffee, I have to-"

She dashed for the door, but Rerugen grabbed her by the waist and picked her up.

Zettour and Rudersdorf set to work barricading the door.

"Degurechaff! There's nothing we can do," Rerugen sighed. "Serebryakov is most certainly already gone - agh!" He dropped her, suddenly doubling over as he grabbed his skull. The others looked over to see Tanya's eyes glowing electric blue. She broke for the door, computation jewel illuminating a bright red as her palms began to generate yellow light.

"I'll blow through that damn door to save her if I have to!"

Rerugen forced himself to his senses and grabbed hold of Tanya's arms, despite his splitting headache. "Stop fucking around! You'll get us all killed!"

"We've already surrendered... What could be happening...?" Zettour said quietly.

"They have to want something from us." Rudersdorf carefully peeked out the window blinds. "...Russy uniforms! The hell...?" He paused. "Great God...Lavrentiy Beria himself is standing right at the foot of the steps, ordering them in."

Rerugen's headache suddenly ceased as this grabbed Tanya's attention.

"The Brigadier General of the Russy Forces?!" She shook herself free from Rerugen's grip. "They came to ransack us? This is against international law, surely-"

The telephone in the back began to ring.

Zettour slowly walked over, collected his composure, and answered it. "Brigadier General Zettour speaking."

Everyone stood as still, silent statues while Zettour listened.

"I know that!" he spoke, "They've compromised the HQ! What do they want?!"

More silence.

"...No. Well, that - we're not going to negotiate. We cannot hand over - no. No. The Empire doesn't give away prisoners of-" He was cut off again. Eventually, it seemed as if the other line had hung up, so he just pulled the phone away from his face, stared at it for a moment, then set it down.

"Sir..." Rerugen put a hand on Tanya's shoulder. "Does he want...?"

Zettour nodded.

Rudersdorf still seemed frozen.

Tanya was the only one who wasn't in the know about this. "What does he want?! What are you all not telling me?"

"We never informed you of this, because we didn't want you to charge into battle afraid, during raids of Moscow and the Russy border." Zettour spoke his words very slowly. "Lavrentiy Beria has a very precarious reputation..."

" _Precarious_ is one way to put it," Rerugen spat. He had a look of pure disgust on his face. "We _cannot_ hand over Degurechaff."

Tanya's eyes narrowed as she turned to him. "What is his reputation...?"

"He..."

"Lavrentiy Beria is a known pedophile," Rudersdorf cut in. "His high military position tends to earn him a seat above the law, however. He's never been convicted for his crimes."

Tanya scoffed. " _Oh_. So he wants _me?_ That's it, is it?!"

Zettour nodded his head. "You, for the entire city of Berun to live."

The room went silent again.

"This has to be against international-" Rerugen started.

"It's not." Zettour shook his head. "This is no different than taking prisoners of war on a regular basis."

"But we've already _surrendered!_ " Tanya pounded her fist against an end table. "I'll just aim my gun out the window and kill the bastard."

"And let the entire city be destroyed by the Russy forces?" Zettour shook his head. "As much as I would like to choose it, that's not an actual option for us. The Allied Powers have already begun dismantling our military. We're a broken land, a half-fallen empire. And we haven't even signed a treaty yet."

The disturbance in the hallway seemed to have ceased. The whole building was eerily quiet, all of a sudden. Perhaps everyone else had been shot down.

But then, a massive pound at the door caused everyone in the room to jump.

"There's nowhere to go," Rudersdorf sighed.

Zettour shook his head. "No."

Rerugen grabbed Tanya by the wrist and led her to the desk in the back of the room, near the fireplace. "Get underneath. Don't come out."

Tanya glared at him. "And not stand tall against the enemy? You want me to hide and quiver in fear of being caught?!"

"Do you want to be captured by Beria?!"

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "It doesn't sound like he means to kill me, per say. I'd rather be taken and put through whatever hell, than have all of the citizens of Berun be killed in my cowardice." Tanya slowly opened her eyes again. She thought of Viktoriya - of the possibility that she was still alive. She wouldn't let her, or the battalion, die because of this.

Rerugen gave Tanya a long stare, then nodded his head. "Well then… the Empire will thank you for your valiance." He gave her a military salute.

Tanya gave him a quick one back, just as the door came flying off its hinges, sending furniture gliding several feet back across the hardwood floor.

A dozen soldiers came barging through the ruins of the doorway. They held their guns up toward everyone in the room, who could do nothing but raise their hands in surrender. Except Tanya, who crossed her arms and walked in front of Rerugen.

A man walked into the room slowly. He wore a long overcoat, a peaked cap, and round black glasses. There wasn't much hair on his head, and he didn't stand very tall. Still, the look on his face as he panned the room was one of enough malice and dark intention to send shivers down even Tanya's spine. The look he gave when he spotted her was something else entirely.

His eyes narrowed, lips pressing into an uneven sneer. "Oh, my beautiful Tanya von Degurechaff. I finally get to speak with you in person."

She said nothing to him. Just stood her body up straight and spread her feet slightly to give the most confident stance she could.

Rerugen stepped out from behind her, but she put out a hand so that he wouldn't pass. He knew why she was doing this. Beria wasn't likely to hurt her, but he probably didn't have anything against hurting someone else.

"How have you been?" He put out his arms, taking a few steps toward her. Zettour, Rudersdorf, and Rerugen all stiffened. But they knew there was nothing they could - or should - do. "I know it must be hard to see your country fall, but don't worry. I'll take you to a place where everything will be just fine."

She took a step back. "I don't advise you come any closer, Lavrentiy Beria."

"Ah, but here's the thing." He stuck his index finger in the air, as if coming up with some divinely magnificent idea. "I have the advantage over you today. As if the threat of your city's demise isn't enough, I have something else that might interest you."

Tanya's eyebrows furrowed at that.

Beria snapped his fingers, and two soldiers brought something in. Or rather, someone.

A body writhed and squirmed in between them. They each dragged her by one arm, her hands bound behind her back. It was Viktoriya.

Tanya's eyes widened. "Serebryakov..."

"I'll make this a quick and easy decision." Beria reached under his coat and pulled out a pistol. He cocked it and set the end of the barrel right to Viktoriya's head. She gasped, but said nothing. Just watched Tanya silently as her eyes began to gloss over with fear. "Really, you don't have any choice. It's not like you can escape now, but amuse me for a moment. Let's say you're to ignore all logic and warning signs, and decide to make a run for it." He clicked his tongue. "Well, you're going to be captured anyway, and your punishment for disobeying will start with a bullet through this woman's head."

Tanya stood in stunned silence.

"I know this woman - Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakov - is your adjutant. Your right hand woman." He smirked. "Your best friend, even. Don't underestimate the intelligence of the Russy Federation."

Tanya hesitated for only a moment, before bowing her head and giving a deep sigh. "Lower the gun, Beria. Lower all of these guns. I'll go with you. But first, I want to be clear about something. I won't put up a fight, as long as you let everyone else go. Understand?"

"Beggars can't be choosers, my sweet."

"I may go with you," she looked up slowly. At least he was actually lowering his pistol. "But if you harm a single hair on the head of Serebryakov, anyone in this room, or any of the people of this city, I will give you _hell._ "

"Heh heh..." He smirked. "That's the lovely Tanya. Feisty as ever." Beria dropped the gun to his side and held his free hand out toward her. "Take my hand, and I'll release your adjutant."

Tanya gritted her teeth.

"Degurechaff..." Rerugen sighed. "You don't have to-"

"Of course I do." She took a step toward Beria.

"What are you going to do if you take her...?" Viktoriya asked quietly.

Beria chuckled, but didn't answer her. "Come, my sweet girl."

Tanya grimaced at him, but took another step. And another. And another. She forced her legs to move underneath her. It felt like a plank walk to her impending doom. Her mind filled with all the grotesque things he may have ever thought about her. It made her want to vomit. This man was repulsive. She never wanted to be even remotely near him, much less _touch his hand_.

For Viktoriya.

Tanya took one final step, reached up her hand, and set it in his.

He gave a smirk and curled his fingers around hers. "Perfect. Now then. Kill the rest."

All of the men raised their guns a second time.

" _NO!_ " Tanya elbowed Beria in the gut and grabbed his pistol. Suddenly, she was pointing it at him, and the room came back to a stalemate.

Beria chuckled. "Oh, Tanya... this was a bad decision. You'll be punished for this."

"You told me you would let them go."

"I never told you _anything_." He waved a finger at her, somehow still completely calm. "I just said I would release your adjutant. I didn't say I wouldn't kill her afterwards."

"What do you want from me, Beria? What are you trying to achieve here?"

"I want to take you back to the Russy Federation with me," he smiled. "And to make you my wife."

She nearly gagged. "You think I'll be such a loving wife if you've killed those that I care for?"

Beria shrugged. "...Well, my apologies then. Perhaps I've made a mistake. But I'm sure I could make you love me, no matter what I've done beforehand."

"I don't think you should be so cocky..." she smirked. "When I'm the one with the gun. In fact, I don't think I'll give you a chance for redemption. Why don't you and your men just back out that door and go?"

"We can stand like this all day, my dear Tanya, but I'm not going to leave. I suppose we'll be at a stalemate forever, unless you'd like to just end this silliness and come with me."

She stood in silence for another moment. Admittedly, there was nothing left she could do.

They really would stand like this forever. It would be a matter of who had the stronger arms - who could hold a gun up the longest. She knew the limits of her physical body. Could sense the limitlessness of this man's insanity.

"I...will lower my gun. Okay. But Serebryakov and these men..." Tanya motioned to the colonels and the general. "...they are my family. If you kill them, I will resist you until the day I die. Besides... you really think the Entente Alliance will appreciate the fact that the Russy Federation invaded the Empire, even after its surrender, just to capture one more prisoner of war? Do you think it will look good in the history books that you went into a defenseless country, destroyed its HQ, and shot up its strategists? Not to mention the threat you've made about killing the people of Berun...how do you really expect to get away with all of it?"

Beria hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Alright. I knew you were smart, but my my..." he turned to his men. "We'll spare this room."

"Just take me, and go back to whatever hellhole you came from," Tanya said. "Okay?"

He nodded. "Yes, yes. Okay. We have a deal."

Tanya looked to General Zettour for some confirmation that she could put down her gun. He gave a nod.

She finally lowered her weapon.

Beria slowly reached out his hand and wrapped it around the top of the gun. She released it from her grip, and he pulled it back. "Good girl..." He took her by the hand again. "Come now."

"I'll walk when I see all of the men and women of Berun spared."

"You're not in power anymore." Beria's grip tightened like a vise, and she winced in pain as he dragged her out of the room.

"Tanya..." Viktoriya had said it.

She looked over her shoulder.

"We'll find you," she said quietly. "I promise."

"Godspeed," Rerugen mumbled from the far side of the room. He gave another salute. The other officials each gave one as well.

With that, Tanya was practically paraded out of Berun. Beria didn't let go of her hand the whole time, and soldiers walked on every side of them to prevent her escape. She felt like an animal in a cage.

Children whispered. Adults watched in horror. The Empire's last hope - the Rusted Silver, the Devil of the Rhine herself - was being taken away as a prisoner of war. Led by the hand of this evil, evil man. She wondered if some people in the crowd were assuming the worst uses that she could fulfill as a prisoner, just like _she_ was.


	2. Part II

_**Another quick disclaimer:** I don't speak Russian or German, so it may not be perfectly used in this story. Apologies for that. I'm consulting as many translation sources as I can._

* * *

The first thing they did was rip the Elinium Type 95 from her neck and search her for weapons. There went all of her self-defense. Then Tanya was forced onto a train headed across the border.

She wasn't conscious for the majority of the train ride. She'd been offered some sort of drink, in what looked to be a wine glass. Tanya refused it four times. It had obviously been laced with something. Beria eventually gave up and had two soldiers hold her still while he forced a white pill into her mouth. Then he held her jaw shut until it took its effect. She couldn't just hold it under her tongue - it eventually dissolved.

Tanya felt quiet drowsy just a minute or so later. As much as she didn't want to pass out on a train seat next to Lavrentiy Beria, she had no control over it. Her muscles went slack and her consciousness faded away.

She awoke in an unfamiliar bedroom.

Tanya sat up with a start, then immediately regretted it. Whatever that drug was, it was giving her a headache as it worked to wear off - similar to the hangovers she used to have in her past life.

She inspected her body. Was she still wearing clothes?! Yes. Yes, nothing felt too weird. She wasn't physically sore anywhere, just a little stiff. No marks, no bruises. Nothing had been done to her during her sleep. However, she wasn't wearing her uniform jacket or shoes, and her peaked cap was nowhere to be found either. This meant she was wearing her army green pants, socks, and a white tank top, but that was it.

She didn't like the idea of her body being this exposed in front of a man like Beria...but there was nothing to be done about it. She knew deep down that this wouldn't be the worst to come, anyway.

The pound of footsteps faded into earshot began to reverberate through the hallway. The door opened, and Lavrentiy Beria appeared in the archway. "Oh, good! You've finally woken." He walked approached her slowly, and Tanya leaned backward on the bed until her shoulders hit the panels of the headboard. "Oh, don't be afraid! This is a very special day! You might not understand that now, but you will in time."

"Why did you drug me...?" Her voice came out raw and raspy.

"Please don't be offended, but you have a bit of a reputation." As he spoke, she couldn't help but notice he was holding a black clothing bag. The coat hanger hung from in between his fingers. "A reputation for being a fighter. You don't go down easily, in any situation. It was part of the plan all along to sedate you on the way back, just in case things were to get difficult for us."

He set the clothing bag down on the bed. "Moving on, though. We're going to dinner tonight. I'm excited to show you off to my colleagues. Especially the ones who never believed I'd be able to have you." He snickered at that. "So this is your dress."

Tanya slowly took the coat hanger from him and unzipped the bag. It was a red and white dress. It looked awfully familiar-

"I've worn this exact dress before..." she mumbled, pulling it from the bag. "Did you...do this on purpose?"

"Why, yes! How observant of a little thing you are." He pulled the hat from the bag and turned it over in his hands a few times. "I saw the photos of you from when you earned that badge. The Silver Wings, I believe it was called? Either way, you just looked _too_ beautiful. I wanted to see that look that I loved so much in person."

Tanya furrowed her eyebrows, but she knew it might be better not to fight against him. There would be a way to get out of here. She would find it. But fighting about trivial matters would only invoke punishment upon herself, and make her time in this hellhole even less bearable. So she sucked it up and said nothing.

Suddenly, he had grabbed her by the chin in two of his fingers and forced her to look up at him. "Why the long face, darling? You're going to be the shining star of the whole dinner."

Tanya shook her head slightly. She had nothing to say.

-XXX-

Tanya stared herself down in the mirror. Well, she was wearing it. The red dress. The cap that went with it. The white stockings. The black mary janes. This wasn't the last thing to be done, though. He led her out to a bathroom in the hallway. The house was really extravagant - the bathroom was large and open. There was a chair in front of the mirror. A curling iron was set on the counter.

"Sit."

Tanya hesitantly sat down. "...Do you know how to use a curling iron?"

"You should really be flattered," he smiled. "I learned how to use one specifically so that I could do your beautiful hair for you." He set her hat down on the counter and ran a couple of fingers through her blond hair.

Tanya couldn't help but shudder at the feeling. She hated this. Her shoulders stiffened up and she gripped the sides of the chair.

Dinner was a strange experience.

Lavrentiy Beria may have been evil, and to some extent smart, but he really wasn't socially aware in the slightest. He did exactly as he'd implied he would; he paraded Tanya around the grand military dining hall like a trophy. His spoil of war. It was a celebratory dinner of some sort, probably in recognition of the fall of the Empire. This was simply Tanya's best assumption, though. Everyone was speaking in Russian.

She could tell he was pretty unaware, or at the very least, unconcerned, with others' opinions. People gave him looks of concern and disgust as he dragged Tanya around by the hand. Maybe they could see the discomfort seeping through her poker face.

Eventually, they were stopped by a man in a similar formal officer uniform to Beria. He had more medals and achievements on his uniform, however. Tanya examined his epaulettes. She didn't know too much about the Russian ranking system, but it was fair to say he could have been Beria's boss.

"ты сделал это," he scoffed slightly. Tanya had no idea what to make of that sentence. It was completely lost on her.

"Да, в самом деле!" Beria replied. They went on like this for a few moments. Tanya's eyes wandered the room. There was one particular soldier giving her a concerned look. She began to wonder how popular Beria was among these people. If they knew he was a creep as far away as in the Empire, they must've been aware of it here too, right? Were people feeling sympathy for her?

"She doesn't speak any Russian? I suppose it was wrong of me to assume."

Tanya looked up as soon as she heard German. It was slightly sloppy and heavily accented, but German nonetheless.

The man with many medals was speaking to her. He gave her a smile. "Tanya von Degurechaff, isn't it?"

She could respond to this. " _Ja. Das ist richtig._ " That is correct.

"I already knew that. Beria talks about you all the time. And, of course, you've caused us quite a lot of trouble. You have to understand that you may not be very well liked around here. You've killed many of our men in the past."

She gave him a blank stare. "That doesn't bother me. I'm not here on a pleasantry visit."

"Heh heh heh…" He swirled a wine glass in his hand. "That may be true. If you're interested to know, my name is Major General Mikhailov. I gave Brigadier General Beria here the 'yes' to go ahead and take you from the Empire."

She blinked at him.

"I suppose that doesn't make you appreciate me anymore though, hm?"

Tanya was silent.

"Wow, she's quiet when she doesn't have a gun in her hands," he snickered to Beria. "Well, Degurechaff. Please think about it this way. You very well could have been put on trial for your life if General Beria hadn't come to take you instead. You should be thanking him. You're considered a war criminal, you know."

She scoffed, finally deciding to break her poker face, and gave this major general person a smug look. "At least I'd be getting recognition for my achievements. I must say, death seems better than wearing this damn outfit."

Beria and Mikhailov laughed at that, as if she'd just cracked a lighthearted joke at a neighborhood get-together. It made Tanya's stomach churn, but she didn't let the confidence drop from her expression.

Beria put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, my sweet girl. After dinner the outfit will come off."

That sent ice down Tanya's spine, so cold that she completely froze up.

"Oh, Beria. You've scared her."

Beria just chuckled on. "It's Tanya von Degurechaff. She's fine."


	3. Part III

Tanya realized that there was only one escape from this now. She'd have to somehow lose Beria in the crowd, and then hide, if she didn't want to face whatever fate he had in store for her after dinner. The problem was, he kept his hand around hers like an iron vise the entire night. There would have to be some way she could...

"Um..." Tanya made herself look fidgety. "Beria. May I go for a moment? I need to use the restroom."

He looked down at her. "You must understand, young one. I don't trust you on your own yet. It'll have to wait."

"You can walk me to the restroom. Please?" She hated this. She hated putting on this innocent little girl voice just to make herself look less underhanded. She hated the way she had to be touching his hand all evening, she hated the idea of him walking her to the restroom. But she hated the thought of being trapped alone with him for an entire night even more than any of this. So she stuck it through.

Beria sighed. "...Alright. Make it quick, though." They turned toward the hallway and began to leave the great hall.

Now, if she could just get him completely alone, she might be able to pull something rather dangerous...

"Don't think you can trick me, now," he said quietly as they walked. "I know this is the classic escape technique. Asking to use the bathroom. If you try to escape now, you'll lose your chance to be in my good graces. And you're already walking the fence after that little stunt you pulled earlier today."

"You have to understand," she said, voice turning a bit grim. "I won't hesitate to leave your 'good graces' if it's for the sake of the Empire, or those I care about."

He tsked his tongue at that. "You're very cute for saying that, but what you don't realize is that all of your efforts are worthless anyway. You cannot fight against me. I am the second in command of the entire Russy armed forces. You are a lieutenant colonel who's good with a gun and a computation jewel - which you no longer have. You might as well submit to my will."

She scoffed, but said nothing.

"You might be interested to know, by the way, that I made sure the stunt you pulled back in your Strategic HQ building...was fruitless."

Tanya's eyes widened. "The hell do you mean?!"

They began to descend down a flight of stairs. This was a much smaller, much more enclosed section of the building. The floor had a few doors that led to individual restrooms. Otherwise, the walls were lined with sinks and mirrors. It was just the two of them here.

"I mean that once we were on the train, I had some men remain behind and kill the rest of the soldiers in the HQ building." He snickered. "Specifically, the ones that you gave me so much trouble trying to protect."

Tanya's eyes widened. She took in a slow, deep breath. "...No. You're lying to me."

He shook his head. "Don't worry, none of this matters now. You would have never seen them again anyways. I just wanted to let you know what happens when you think you can be the controller of a situation." He reached out and picked up one of her golden curls between his fingers.

Tanya didn't bother trying to stop him. She was still in shock. "...We made a deal. And you broke it." Her eyes began to narrow.

"I didn't promise or swear to anything," he shrugged. "And even if I did, a deal with a child is nothing more than a way to get them to shut their mouth."

Tanya balled her free hand into a fist. She yanked back the hand that he was holding onto, and to her surprise, he actually let go. Beria crossed his arms and looked down at her.

"Now, now. Don't be so-"

"You _killed them?!_ You killed my, my-"

"Your brothers and sisters in arms?" A wicked sneer formed on his face. "Yes. Yes I did."

"I'LL _KILL YOU!_ " Tanya aimed to punch him right in the same place as before - the gut. Unfortunately, he must have been anticipating this, because Beria grabbed her by the arm and bent it backward. Tanya hissed in pain and struggled to break free. She thrashed her legs and managed to kick him a few times, but he grabbed her other arm and threw her down onto the ground.

Tanya landed on her back with a thud. She looked up at him for a moment and - despite the ominous, wide-eyed frown that was forming on his face, she scrambled back up to her feet. He wasn't going to intimidate her.

Tanya huffed. "If we were the same size I would have you out like a light by now."

"But we're not," he replied, voice completely flat. "We're not the same size. Because you're a child and I'm an adult and that means _you_ do as _I_ say. Honestly, I thought you were a smarter girl than to start fights you know you can't win."

She blinked the teariness out of her eyes. It hadn't completely sunken in yet that everyone she cared about was dead. Anger and hatred were still flowing strong through her bloodstream. And terrible set of toxins were beginning to seep in as well: realization, horror, desperation. How could they really be gone? What was there to come back to, if she was to really escape this man?

Tanya began to realize that if Lavrentiy Beria hadn't gone searching for her, the Strategic HQ would have never been put in harm's way in the first place. It was her that drove them all to their own demise. And she didn't even know about it until it was too late.

"Fuck you, Lavrentiy Beria. You're a type of scum lower than the human race."

His looming frown didn't diminish.

Tanya didn't really care at this point. She felt like her insides were churning into a mesh of human tissue. She was twisted up and torn. She didn't know how or what she should be feeling in that moment.

Finally, Beria spoke. "I think it's time that we went home, hm?"


	4. Part IV

_**A couple of short notes:** Some canonical facts will be altered for the sake of the plot being more plausible. Hopefully that's not a bother in any way. I mean, this is fanfiction, so that's just how it is sometimes, I suppose._

 _On a separate note, it's going to get darker from here on out and I'd like to give a reminder that I don't condone any of the presented behavior. Don't worry though - Tanya's a very clever person, as we all know. She can strategize her way out of even the - for lack of a better word - "trickiest" situations._

* * *

Beria held open the front door for Tanya and she sauntered inside slowly. Just as it swung shut, she felt a harsh push to the back of the shoulders. Tanya lost her balance in those damn uncomfortable shoes and fell to her knees on the floor, catching herself on her hands.

"You've been a terribly bad girl, my little Tanya."

She looked over her shoulder up at him. "I'm not sure what you were expecting. You stole me from my fatherland and killed the people who practically raised me. I will give you nothing but hell, just as I warned you I would."

His dress shoe suddenly collided with her chest, and she felt a sharp pain in her ribcage as she tumbled over onto her side.

"And just as _I_ warned _you_ , you will be punished for it."

Tanya took a few shallow breaths, trying to regain the air that had been knocked out of her lungs. Dammit - if only she'd had her computation jewel. She would have been able to take this man down with ease. "I don't care if you break every bone in my body. I'll resist you forever."

Beria was pulling his leg back to deliver another kick to her body, when he froze. "...heh heh heh... How cute." He broke out into a mad fit of chuckling. "Really now… You're too adorable."

Tanya squinted at him and pulled herself up into a sitting position. She felt her ribs. None were broken, but there would surely be a nasty bruise.

"Tanya, my sweet Tanya." He bent down onto one knee and reached out to touch her face. She pushed his hand away. "Don't you know? It's been my dream for years."

"What?"

"To break you."

"The _fuck_ does that mean?"

"Heh heh heh…" He tried again to touch her face. This time, when she resisted, Beria caught her hand in his right and grabbed her by the back of her hair with his left. She grimaced as he pulled her hair downward, tilting her face up to look him in the eyes. "It means I'm going to make sure you understand that you are _mine_."

Tanya spat in his face.

Beria dropped her and stumbled to his feet. "Such a fiery little girl, aren't you?"

A moment of silence between them.

He looked up toward the ceiling. The corners of his lips began to tug upward, and then he bursted into a fit of full-fledged laughter. "Aha, it's _wonderful!_ No matter what you do, you're just _perfect_ , do you know that?!"

Tanya stood to her feet. She wasn't about to let this man's obvious insanity scare her. She just gave him a violent glare.

When Beria finally looked back down at her, he gave no verbal reaction. Just grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her against the wall.

Tanya winced as her skull made contact with the drywall. It was more humiliating than anything, to feel so powerless against him. And she was still wearing that stupid, goddamn dress…

Okay, think, think… It was time for some sort of strategy. She considered breaking for the bathroom. Maybe there was a lock in the door… Maybe she could buy some time while he calmed down from whatever sort of psychotic episode this was.

She peeled herself away from the wall and sprinted for it.

He caught her, just barely, by a ribbon on the back of her dress, and pulled her back toward him. "Oh? Where are you going?"

Tanya thrashed with everything she could, desperately trying to land a single significant hit on him, but he was so much bigger than her. It was like trying to fight a brick wall. It _really_ was frustrating to not be able to use magic for self defense. She felt bare and unguarded now.

"If you don't stop fighting, I'm going to have to hit you again," he warned. "Okay?"

She punched him in the chest. Went to knee him between the legs, but he saw that coming and dropped her from his grip at the last second. Who knows what was going through Beria's mind. Who knows if he thought it was the only way - but he threw a punch.

It was a skull-splitting sensation. A massively powerful force against the side of her face. Tanya's whole world went black for a couple of seconds.

She blinked a few times. It started to become clear that she was lying on the floor. The world was spinning. Her left eye, and the upper half of her cheek, hurt like hell.

"Oh... My sweet Tanya..." Beria slowly scooped her off the floor.

She knew some called this "bridal style" but it really wasn't fitting of the situation. This was more like "I just hit a prepubescent child in the face with my fist and knocked her out cold for a few seconds" style.

From what she could tell, she was being carried somewhere. His voice drifted through the air like frigid ocean waves. "I wish you hadn't made me do that, little one... Now your face won't be so pretty for a while."

Tanya groaned and touched her fingertips to her face. "...Fuck you..."

"On the bright side, this subdued state of yours is quite pleasant. What a nice change from before."

Tanya wanted to shoot up and continue fighting, but the world was still spinning. Did she have a concussion...?

She was set down. Her ears were ringing a little bit, and her face was throbbing, but...she could make out the sound of rustling. Of something being untied. Of clothing being undone.

"No..." She shook her head, trying to come to her senses. "You bastard...don't touch me."

"Shh..." She heard his voice, but all she could make out was his form above her. "Don't worry, my little Tanya...everything will be just lovely. You'll feel so refreshed when you wake up in the morning."

"No! I'll kill you..." she mumbled.

He snickered quietly. "Not before I make you mine, love."


	5. Part V

"I can't..." Tanya mumbled. The ringing was beginning to get louder and louder. Her heartbeat pounded in her chest, her arms, her legs, her temples. She could feel it everywhere. "...Hit my head..."

He was saying something to her now, but comprehending his words was a completely lost cause. Tanya shut her eyes as she felt herself drifting away. Goddammit, why of all times, was she losing consciousness _now?_ This was the very second in which stakes were the highest. She _needed_ to fight back, to stop this from happening...but she was too incapacitated.

She blacked out a second time.

-XXX-

When Tanya began to come back to her senses, it felt like sixty years had passed. But she could still feel her back against the mattress of the bed.

The first thing she saw was a blinding light. She squinted and tried to pull her head away, but there was a hand holding her chin, keeping her facing forward.

When it turned off, Tanya began to see more clearly - a doctor! Someone who could help her, perhaps...?

Beria was sitting on the bed next to Tanya. He leaned forward, a hand on her left shoulder. Right now, his body language gave the illusion of a concerned father figure. The thought disgusted her. He was anything _but_.

"Welcome back," the doctor said in a thick Russian accent. He gave her a small smile and tucked the penlight from before into his coat pocket. "Can you tell me what your name is?"

Tanya wasn't really listening to him. She looked down at herself, thought about all the physical sensations she was feeling, and tried to get some idea of what had happened while she was out of it. She was still wearing the dress...

Ah. Yes, something was wrong here.

Her white stockings didn't feel right. They were twisted and spread unevenly across her legs. One wasn't pulled up as high as the other.

She tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down by the chest. "Not so fast, now. What's your name?"

Tanya opened her mouth to tell him, but a realization suddenly washed over her.

As soon as she was done being examined by the doctor, she would be alone again with Beria. It was likely she wouldn't be conveniently saved again. If she didn't do something _drastic_ soon, he would keep trying, and eventually succeed in...accomplishing that _goal_ of his. That is...if he hadn't already accomplished it. She still wasn't sure.

Nothing but her clothes felt particularly wrong, after all. She figured if he had really succeeded, things would...probably hurt. She'd feel strange, or sore, or _something_.

"..." She blinked at the doctor a few times. What was he asking her, again?

The doctor gave a forced smile. He looked a little impatient. Frustrated, even. "Your name, _baryshnya_."

"' _Baryshnya_ '...?" She blinked a few times, putting on her most young, innocent voice. "Is that my name...?"

Beria raised his eyebrows. The doctor stared at her blankly for a moment before picking up a clipboard and scribbling something quickly. "...No, _baryshnya_ means 'young lady' in the Russian tongue, my child. That is not your name."

Yes, _yes!_ It looked like they were believing it. She'd have to continue playing this part.

"Oh..." She pulled herself up into a sitting position again. This time, the doctor didn't stop her. "I'm sorry. I-I...don't remember." She put a few fingers up to her cheek bone and winced. There was a nasty welt on her face. "Ow...what happened to me?"

"You fell down the stairs," Beria said.

"Do you know where you are right now?" The doctor asked.

She shook her head.

"Do you know how old you are?"

She shook her head.

The doctor shot a serious look at Beria, then looked back at Tanya. "Well. You hit the back of your head. That much, we know. I would imagine this means your brain hit the front of your skull upon impact. Trauma to the frontal lobe _does_ run the risk of inducing memory loss."

"...Oh." She looked around. "So...will it come back? My memory, I mean."

He shrugged his shoulders. "There's no surefire way to tell. It may with time. It would help to be shown things from your life, and for someone to explain who you are to you."

She looked at Beria. He began to smirk upon hearing this.

"Don't worry, my sweet girl." Beria ran a few fingers through her hair. "I'll tell you everything. You'll get your memory back."

"I suppose my work is done here," the doctor gathered his things and stood up. "Again, _baryshnya_ , please don't overdo it. I don't want to see you walking about too often, alright? You need at least a week or two of serious rest."

She nodded. "Thank you, doctor."

With that, the door shut promptly behind him.

There was a moment of complete silence. Complete still.

Tanya felt his hands wrap around her torso. She was lifted and set in Beria's lap.

"...So...who are you? Who am _I?_ "

"Your name is Tanya." A smirk began to grow on his face. "And I'm Lavrentiy Beria, your husband."


	6. Part VI

_A/N: Hello, sorry it took me a while to update the story this time around._ _I have to be in a tough enough state to work on something as creepy as this, so it takes a specific time and place._

 _I'm going to go ahead and make the rating switch to M. No hugely specific reason - I think the story's just gotten a bit too heavy for the T rating._

* * *

What a lying _bastard_.

"My husband...?!" Tanya's eyes widened. "How old am I?"

He smiled as if it was no big deal at all. "Twelve."

"Twelve...?"

"Yes. You're my sweet little girl."

She didn't know how not to reply to that with malice, so she decided not to respond at all.

"Let's get you out of that dress now, hm? It's just about time for bed."

Tanya didn't like the sound of that. Or the thought of it. Would they have to sleep in the same bed…? Would he...try things, again?

She wondered if she had screwed herself over with this whole innocence act. It would gain his trust overtime, but how would it protect her in the short term? Wouldn't it just boost his confidence to do disgusting things without repercussion?!

She didn't really want to know the answer to this next question. But she had to ask it. "...What...do I wear to bed, usually?"

"I'll show you." Beria picked her up and sat her back down on the bed before standing to his feet. He walked over to a set of double doors on the far wall, and they opened to reveal a large walk-in closet. He disappeared inside for a moment before coming out with something draped over a clothes hanger.

Her mouth hung open in dismay. "That looks...awfully cold."

"Don't worry." He pulled it off the hanger and set it down on the bed.

It was a light pink, sleeveless nightgown. It looked short.

Saying 'don't worry' wasn't going to stop her from worrying. Her eyelid twitched, but she tried to let it go.

Tanya slowly picked it up. "Um...where's the bathroom?"

"Oh, you don't need to change in there." Beria began to undo the ribbon on the front of her crimson dress. "We're married, of course. You've always been comfortable changing in front of me."

She didn't like this at all. Her shoulders tensed up, but the visual queue didn't stop him from turning her around by the shoulders and beginning to undo the buttons down the back of her dress.

 _Just stay still and endure it. You're saving yourself from worse in the long run. This is nothing. This is nothing._

She did her best to calm herself, but her heart was ready to beat straight out of her chest. It wasn't easy to stand still.

"Calm down, dear..." She could feel his breath on the back of her neck as he slid the dress down over one shoulder.

Tanya cringed, knowing he couldn't see her face. "I'm sorry… I just...since I lost my memory, it feels as if I have to meet you as a stranger all over again. It's a little uncomfortable to undress in front of someone I don't really know that well."

Beria said nothing as he slid the dress down her other shoulder as well. It went lower, exposing to him her pale back, and the grooves of her spine.

It continued on, lower, lower...

A ragged breath escaped Tanya's lips. "I'm sorry...I-I...may I change in the bathroom?"

He sighed.

She turned to him, holding the front of the dress up with one hand. She shoved all of the anger down into her throat, allowing her humiliation to bubble up instead. Tanya bit her lip as she looked at him, letting the overflow of emotion make her eyes glossy. If she ever needed to appeal to the human side of someone, it was now.

That is, if Beria _had_ a human side.

"Please, s-sir."

He seemed to be considering it. Eventually, he just sighed again and stood up. "Alright, that's fine. Go ahead for now, but this can't become a habit."

He was either smarter man than she initially thought, or had more restraint than expected. Either was adequate for now. Tanya gave a small nod, grabbed the nightgown, and quickly fled for refuge in the bathroom.

Once she got the door shut and locked, Tanya found herself frozen for a moment, hand still on the doorknob. She leaned her forehead against the wood and shut her eyes, letting out a sigh. This was all so incredibly exhausting. She couldn't help but imagine what kind of mental toll it was going to take to endure even more of this.

Tanya dropped the nightgown in her hand and set her palms against the door, giving up on holding onto the red dress. It dropped down her torso about halfway, stopping where the sleeves still hung on her arms.

Eyes still shut, she found herself slowly sliding down to her knees. That humiliation that she forced herself to show Beria was still making her eyes damp. She gritted her teeth and debated allowing weakness to spill through - allowing herself to cry.

Her body made the decision for her. The emotions spilled over, and Tanya found herself biting her lip to choke back a ragged breath as a tear dropped down her cheek.

"I don't want to put that damn thing on..." she mumbled. The nightgown - it was worse than the red dress. Even more feminine. A lot more...revealing. Not something someone of her age should have to wear.

She - slowly, hesitantly - slid the red dress the rest of the way off her body. She didn't even think to fold it, or hang it, or anything. Just dropped it on the floor and stepped out of it.

Tanya looked down at herself. There was still no surefire way to know how much Beria had seen. Her stockings had been messed up - that was the most obvious thing - but that's not to say she just didn't notice anything else...

Tanya turned to the mirror to wash her face. Maybe that would help. Just a little soap and water would wash away the tears and clear her-

She froze as soon as she saw the reflection in the mirror.

The person staring back at her did _not_ look like Tanya von Degurechaff. No, not at all.

Her blond hair was matted and tangled, and her face was wet with tears. She had a large welt on her left cheek, and her entire cheekbone and eyelid had turned a dark purple color. There was dried blood on the leftmost side of her lip.

Stretching from midway down her ribs to the top of her pelvis were two huge, purplish-red bruises. The kicks from Beria's shoe.

Tanya shook her head slowly. "...What...?"

She found herself filling up with rage again. The strategic part of her took ahold of this growing confidence and shoved the little pink nightgown on before her logical or emotional side could object.

"I'll break you, Lavrentiy Beria... I'll kill you someday..." she mumbled, leaning over the sink. She didn't want to look at herself in the mirror. The end of the dress barely reached midway down her thigh. She felt practically naked.

"Anata ga shindeshimau!" She rasped, thinking back to her very original language. A language from before this life.

 _You will die_.


	7. Part VII

After the Strategic HQ was destroyed by the Russy Federation, the Empire's remaining military leadership made the decision to relocate elsewhere. After all, even in these broken, post-war times, a military presence was necessary. Even - no, _especially_ \- while the Entente Alliance was trying relentlessly to dismantle it. Not to mention they were dealing with a hostage situation.

"I'm not giving up on this," a man growled. His fingers were clenched so hard over the edge of the table that his knuckles had turned white. "We can't just call it a deal and be done with it."

"We don't have a choice," another man sighed, setting his wine glass down on the table with a _clink_. Many men in formal uniforms sat around the ornate dining set. "As much as I hate to disagree with you, it _was_ a successful deal. The city of Berun was saved-"

"How have we already forgotten what the Empire used to be?!" The man with the clenched hands sat up straight all of a sudden. "I'm sorry, sir. I mean to be respectful, but, I just _can't stand_ to see our most valuable soldier taken as a slave to our enemy. The Empire would never have made such a decision if our forces weren't already beaten down by the Entente Alliance. And what, do they think we'll negotiate with terrorists from now on?!"

"Now, you have to understand-"

"She should never have been handed over. It was a complete strategic mistake!"

"That is _enough!_ "

The man settled down, easing back into his chair. He cleared his throat. "...My apologies, sir. I lost my temper."

"What's with the sudden concern for the soldier, anyway?"

"I-it's not a personal situation, sir. It is a matter of ethics. The Empire handed her over, knowing fully well what purpose she would serve for Brigadier General Beria. I just...it makes me sick. She was handed over only just yesterday, but time is so precious in a situation such as this... Sir, it's already been _one night_. Given her situation...she could have already been subject to terrible things."

"I'm sorry, but that's out of our control-"

"Imagine if you were her father, sir. Would you still be able to live with this?"

"..."

"Sir?"

"No."

The room grew silent after that. Quiet considerations - and silent ultimatums - were suddenly being made.

Every officer at the dining table looked down at his lap. At the men beside him. Into himself. Then formed an opinion on the matter. Made a choice. Made a compromise.

Still, nobody spoke their mind.

-XXX-

Thousands of miles away, Tanya laid still.

She just stared up at the ceiling as the summer birds sang their songs. The tones seeped in through the window and filled her ears, but her brain was filled with radio static, so she barely heard them.

She thought about how even though it was summer here in the Russy Federation, the air had a chilly bite to it. It's not that the Empire's climate wasn't similar, but everything was just a little bit colder here.

Tanya deemed that to be fitting.

She ignored the urge to rake her fingers through the matted blond hair on her scalp. There was a certain rage filling her body that made her want to just grab a fistful of her hair and yank the knots right out. She didn't care how much came out with it. She didn't care how disappointed Beria would be to see tangled blond locks litter the sheets. Another thing to make him enjoy her a little bit less.

She almost took pleasure in the thought, but it was overshadowed by all the pain. All the physical, emotional, mental...

 _Fuck_.

She didn't even bother trying to lift herself. Probably wouldn't have even if she was physically able to.

Everything was...everything had been...

Tanya tried to make a mental list of all the physical pains she was feeling, but it would be impossible to catch the smaller ones when there were things like her terrible throbbing head, and the chest bruises that were so deep it was hard to breathe.

There _was_ one thing notable enough to stand out from the rest of this. Her vision in her left eye was fairly limited. It seemed to have swollen partially shut overnight. She reached up to touch it.

"Good morning, my sunshine."

Tanya's body lurched in surprise. She turned her head to see Beria on the far side of the room, quietly tying his tie as he watched her. It sent chills down her spine.

"I didn't want to wake you, since you need your rest." He gave her a seemingly gentle smile. "However, I've got to work."

She didn't say anything to that. Just watched him.

"The doctor is going to drop by today with some medicine that he thinks will help you. So please be polite to him, and answer the door when he knocks."

She nodded slightly.

"Did you sleep well." His voice was starting to lose its sweetness. The words hadn't been inflected like a question. They came out more as a way to force her to talk than as something he genuinely cared about the answer to.

 _Not next to you. Not with your arms around me. Your hands on me. The sound of you breathing._

That reminder that he was still alive, drifting through her ears all night, was almost the most gruesome part of it all.

She shook her head.

"Hm. Must be the concussion."

She decided not to dignify that with a response.

Beria sighed, hesitating for a moment before he spoke again. "Don't worry, Tanya. Once your body is healed, your mind will heal too. You just need some bedrest and you'll feel better, I assure you."

Beria was a surprisingly thorough and elaborate individual, she was now beginning to realize. He didn't intend to just do to her whatever he wanted, against her will. No, his intentions were for a more complicated, more eloquent form of torture: to force her to love him, or at least pretend to, if it was possible. Although, the past had proved that if this petty manipulation and false kindness didn't give him what he was looking for, he wouldn't hesitate use violence as a way to coerce her.

Every expression of empathy was fake to Tanya's trained senses, and every action he took had deeply sinister intentions. A psychopath, maybe? Or a sociopath? Or... something not unlike her own terrible habits as a salaryman in the past life? A...superiority complex?

No, _completely_ different than that. She would never allow herself to be compared to him. She hated this man nearly as much as she hated Being X.

...Perhaps Being X had caused all of this, after all, considering these were the most 'dire straits' that she had ever found herself in.

 _Fuck you, being X._

"Tanya. You haven't said a thing. Answer me."

She turned her head toward him slowly. Her voice came out weak and croaky. "...I'm not sure what you want me to say."

He stood there for a moment in silence.

Tanya propped herself up on her shoulders, then immediately found herself leaning away as he walked toward her.

Beria moved fast across the room, each footstep heavy. His frustration seemed to snowball with every new stomp. It wasn't that he was beginning to look more angry - no, it was just the fact that his mouth began to press into a straight, stoic line, and his eyes widened slightly with determination.

She could feel her own heart racing in her chest as he stuck out a hand and grabbed her by the chin, tilting her head back to look up at him.

He sighed. "Don't you love me, Tanya?"

 _No, you piece of shit_.

"Please understand, I don't have any memories right now-"

"Now, listen to me. There's something _you_ have to understand." He sat down on the side of the bed, making some final adjustments to the knot of his tie as he did so. "I know you don't have any memories, so you don't remember the value of your relationships with people. But the only way to go back to the way things were before is to start _acting_ like things are the way they were before."

It took all of Tanya's willpower not to glare at him. "...How would you suppose I do that?"

"Well, you could kiss me, to start."

Her stomach dropped. Her heart flew up into her throat and choked her. _Fuck no_.

Her first kiss - in this body, at least - was sure as _hell_ not going to be with Lavrentiy Beria.

She shook her head and suddenly sprang off the bed. It hurt her whole body, inside and out, to move this quickly, but it was worth it to get away as soon as possible. "I'm sorry... I just can't-"

"I can only be so lenient with you about this," he growled.

Tanya froze in place, for just a moment, then sprinted off toward the bathroom. "I'm sorry," she uttered before shutting the door and turning the lock into place.

To her misfortune, he got up and walked to the bathroom door.

"Now you're starting to cross over the line into plain misbehavior, sweetie."

He shook the doorknob with alarming ferocity. Tanya bit her lip and held her hands on it, trying to keep it steady. "I need to take a bath and brush out my hair, f-for you. I'm your...wife after all, aren't I?" She cringed on every phrase.

"Yes. But wives do _not_ lock the door on their husbands."

"I'm not comfortable doing those things you want. Please allow me to gain my memories back first."

He was silent for a moment. His voice came out low and raspy when he spoke again. "...You clearly haven't been listening to me at all."

Tanya backstepped a few paces away from the door. She wasn't sure what to do. She opened and closed her fists, over and over, looking around for something - anything - that could be used as a weapon.

Beria seemed to choose a different approach. The venom dropped out of his tone. "Tanya, I'm sorry if I've scared you. Please let me in. I'll give you a bath and wash your hair. I want you to be my sweet little girl again."

 _Fuck no to that too._

"..."

" _Tanya_."

"..."

A massive bang reverberated from the door, and it rattled on its hinges.

" _TANYA! You_ _ **will**_ _let me_ _ **in!**_ "

He was an absolute _madman._ She could feel the emotion-the weakness-building back up behind her eyes. No, she would not cry. If there was any point at which she'd need to stay strong, it was now.

With a sudden crack and a mechanical noise, the lock broke and the door came swinging forth, shattering the only barrier of protection that Tanya had left.

She slowly took in the sight of him, wondering what the hell she'd do now. Contemplating what the _hell_ was about to happen to her.


	8. Part VIII

_We're just a bit more than halfway through the story. I know things are looking down for Tanya, but don't give up yet._

* * *

Beria opened and closed his fists. The light of the hallway poured through to create an ominous silhouette. It was in this moment that Tanya couldn't help but curse a few specific things.

She cursed the tiny dress she was wearing. She cursed the matted hair that she used as an excuse to corner herself in the bathroom. She cursed not having turned on the light when she entered. She cursed the way he'd begun to walk forth into the darkness, the way he swung the broken door shut behind him as he approached, engulfing them both in pitch black.

The way she suddenly felt his hands grab ahold of her body - one by the hair and the other by the waist. The way she struggled to get free, the way that that only encouraged him to pull at her bangs, dig his fingers farther into her skin. The way that she could feel his breath on her face as he leaned down to get closer. The way that she could barely see anything in the dark through her half-adjusted eyes.

"Don't…" she breathed. "Let me go." One last chance. He had one last chance to choose the civil way out, or else she'd have to drop this amnesiac persona.

"You're not the one in charge here," he said, voice a half-whisper. "You've failed to understand that this whole time. You are my wife. I am your husband - I am in charge of you. So you will do as I say."

"Marriage doesn't constitute this k-" she was cut off as he clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Quiet now, my sweet girl."

She could feel the hand on her waist getting tighter and tighter. Tighter and tighter and tighter and tighter-

She let out a muffled cry of pain and he eased up. The grip of his hand loosened and began to slide downward.

Tanya really tried to pull away now. She put her hands against the front of his body and pushed, but he wouldn't let her go.

The hand slid over her hip, tracing the curve of her body, and moved to her inner thigh. She gave up on holding back and formed her hands into fists. She threw a punch, as hard as she could, right at his stomach.

He faltered slightly, but didn't stop. She realized the situation was dire - began to writhe and punch and swing mercilessly. " _Let me_ _ **go**_ _!_ "

But Beria didn't say anything. Just threw her down onto the floor. Her shoulder blades hit the cold tiles with a bang.

All Tanya's eyes could make out was the dark, massive form above her.

"Stop. Or I will _never_ love you!"

"You just need a good enough reminder, and then we'll be back to the way things were."

"Is this how things were?! You pushing and throwing me around?"

"Discipline is applied where discipline is necessary."

"..." She didn't know what else to say. _One_ last attempt at pushing the naive facade. "Please...don't...I'm afraid."

A pair of hands reached out, grabbing her by the wrists. It was so hard to see where anything was. She tried to pull out of the grasp, but he held on tight. Beria dropped to his knees and leaned over her where she was lying on the floor.

"Don't do it..." It wasn't hard to make her voice shake. It really _was_ shaking. But was it out of anger or fear? They felt synonymous now.

She could hear him breathing. It was heavy - she wasn't sure if that was because he was furious, or because he'd just had to essentially wrestle her to the ground. "Tanya, my sweet. My special little girl..." his voice loomed closer and closer. She could feel his breath against her forehead now, and didn't hold back a grimace. She wanted to gag. "It's always been my dream."

"What...?"

"My dream to hear your voice quiver like this. For you to beg me for mercy."

"W-what are you talking about?!"

"Come on now." His grip on her wrist began to tighten. He leaned in even closer, until his lips were just about touching the top of her ear. "...I know you've been faking the whole memory loss charade. It's an insult, really, to think that you believe I'm really so stupid."

"Charade?! What?!" Shit. Shit, shit, shit. How did he know?! In a new burst of adrenaline, Tanya began to struggle against him. She managed to get her shoulders off the floor, punching and kicking and anything she could manage.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk..." It wasn't too difficult for him to force her back down to the floor. "You just kept defying me, no matter what I said...and then..." He breathed in slowly. "Well, I understand it now. The way you look at me...there's too much hatred in it for someone who's just met me as a stranger."

Tanya gritted her teeth and stared at him for a moment. She was starting to be able to see his glasses in the darkness. With the light pouring in from under the doorway, she could just barely make out her reflection in them. An image of herself came into view.

She dropped her head back onto the tile floor.

"...I'm sure you're already late for work, you know." Her voice came out a little calmer this time.

"I know. But it doesn't matter. This is much more important, and now that the war is over, my work has become trivial."

"Even in peacetime, I imagine a brigadier gen-"

"Shh, darling..." His hand left her wrist and came to rest yet again on her thigh.

"Stop."

His hand began to slide upward, causing her nightgown to ride up with it.

" _STOP!_ " The word came out loud - more as a scream than anything else - and she hadn't even meant for it to. " _LET ME GO! LET ME_ _ **GO!**_ "

Just then, the ring of an ornate doorbell reverberated through the house.

Beria froze for a moment, then stood up. "Shit. He's here already? I'll get it. You get back into bed." He turned on the light.

Tanya squeezed her eyes shut as the bright yellow glow hit her face.

"But brush your hair first. You look indecent." With that, he left the bathroom, door swinging behind him loosely. It was a little crooked on its hinges now, with a large crack running down the center of the wood.

Tanya rubbed her eyes. When she pulled her hands away from her face, she slowly looked down at herself. He had just _almost_ reached all the way up her thigh. The dress had ridden up to just about where her thigh made a more dramatic curve inward to meet the shape of her body.

She could see the indents on her wrists from where his thick fingers had been so tightly wrapped. She felt her side. There were probably marks there too. She wondered if his handprints would bruise into her like tattoos.

Great, additions to her pre-existing afflictions. Just what she needed.

Tanya pulled her nightgown down as far as it would go and curled her legs halfway up to her chest, forming a loose sort of ball on the tile floor. She let her hands drop in front of her, and found herself just staring at her fingers.

When was this going to end?

 _When I break out, it will end_.

But how was she supposed to do that?

 _If I don't hurry up, it'll be my own demise._

She'd be killed.

 _Or worse_.

Which was worse? Which was _really_ worse? She certainly didn't want to lose her last reincarnation to a pedophile that beat her to death...but she didn't want her last reincarnation to...endure this. She didn't want her last body to...

She could hear the men talking in the foyer. Beria asking the doctor to give him one second. His footsteps coming back down the hallway. Pausing in the bedroom. Then getting faster, heavier.

He didn't say much when he saw her still lying on the floor in the bathroom.

"Now, there's something that always seems to amaze me about you, Tanya von Degurechaff."

She didn't try to play the naivete game again. Just took that sentence for what it was and didn't issue him any sort of response.

"Let me tell you what it is."

He picked her up in the same "I just physically assaulted a child" style that he'd used once before, and turned toward the doorway.

"You're so smart, and so fiery. There's so much inside of you. And yet..." he clicked his tongue.

Tanya's stomach twisted into a knot.

"No matter what's happened to you, I'm yet to see you cry."

She found it so strange, to think that he was completely self-aware in that moment. That he _knew_ he'd done things to her deserving of sobs and sore throats and punches to the wall and broken knuckles. He'd done things to her that he _thought_ would leave tears streaming down any normal girl's face.

She wondered if he considered himself a villain. She wasn't sure how he wouldn't.

"But I suppose that's always been my fatal mistake with you."

"..."

"Wouldn't you say so too? My mistake has been expecting to understand you. To be able to predict you. And I simply _can't_." He left the bathroom, however hesitantly, when it became clear that she wasn't going to acknowledge this one-sided conversation.

"How is she doing?" The doctor asked as he walked in. Beria had set Tanya in the bed on her side and pulled the covers up halfway over her. She continued to stare blankly at her hands.

Tanya just wished she could be alone. On a chemical, hormonal level, she knew she needed to cry. If she could just get that out of the way, she'd be able to get rid of these damn feelings of...of... _whatever_ it was, and think harder about her escape plan. But for now, she just had to wait.

Beria shook his head slightly, running a few fingers over Tanya's cheek. She flinched at his touch, but nothing more. "Her injuries are fine. I think she's just a bit sensitive."

"To the pain?"

"Yes."

The doctor nodded slightly. "I suppose that's very plausible, but..." he took a small penlight from his bag, which he set down on the end table, and brushed Tanya's bangs gently out of the way. He held one of her eyes open wide and shined the light into it. Then repeated this process with the other one.

"Okay, the concussion is doing well. It's just..." He petted her head. " _Baryshnya,_ can you tell me your name?"

She said nothing to him.

" _Baryshnya..._?" He turned to Beria. "How long has she been unresponsive?!"

"Minutes. It's not the injury, don't worry." He sighed. "We just got into a small argument, and now she's ignoring me."

The doctor didn't say anything to that. He measured her heart rate next, putting the stethoscope on and gently pushing her by the shoulder onto her back.

Tanya made eye contact with him for a second. She let the pain slip through - all at once - in that moment. She gave him the clearest "help me" possible, with just her eyes.

He averted his gaze and set the tool to her chest.

"Hm."

"What?" Beria stood up a little straighter.

"Her heart rate is off the charts."

"Yes, well you see, she's a very clumsy, rowdy girl. When she gets herself worked up, she tends to..."

" _Fall_ , right?" Tanya spoke in a cracking voice.

"Yes - you get yourself into troubling situations. It's good to hear your voice, sweetie."

"Hm. That's strange, since you were telling me to shut up earlier."

"Oh, darling. Let's not bicker again."

"Doctor..." she sighed.

"Yes?" He looked down at her, listening.

"Do you really think that when I hit my head and got this concussion...I hit both the back of my head, _and_ my face, and it was all hard enough to give me a black eye _and_ a concussion?"

He glanced quickly at Beria, who'd begun to frown again. A certain nervousness grew on the doctor's face.

"I've seen stranger scenarios, _baryshnya_. It's okay to be a little clumsy. Just be more careful next time."

Oh, _now_ she understood. The doctor wasn't _ever_ going to do anything. He was afraid of the Russy Federation's brigadier general of the armed forces. Beria could do anything with anyone, if he wanted to. If the doctor stopped helping him… started saying he was an abuser, a pedophile, spoke out against any of this, helped Tanya in any way...

Then he would just disappear one day, and never be heard of again.

That was it, right?


	9. Part IX

The room sat in total silence as the doctor rifled through his bag. What he was looking for, who knew.

"Tanya is...well, she certainly manages to get herself into the strangest situations," Beria laughed slightly. "It'll be the _death of her_ , if she's not careful."

She pretended not to catch that threat - but knew, that he knew, that she was smart enough to understand.

The doctor laughed slightly. "Well, she's at that age, you know. The rather...eh, what's the German word for this...rambunctious? The rambunctious age for children. They're starting to think they rule the world." He gave a fake smile and finally pulled something from his bag. It was a brown paper bag with a cross symbol inked along the front. "Anyway, though. These are for you, _baryshnya_. Painkillers."

She took the bag and looked inside. There was a single little orange tube, with a white label. She pulled it out and read the label. "Vicodin...? That seems excessive."

"Excessive? No, this is prescribed all the time. It came out just a few years ago, but I can assure you it's perfectly safe."

Tanya furrowed her eyebrows slightly and set it back in the bag before slumping her head back onto the pillow. "..." She wasn't sure if she was going to actually use it or not.

"Well, I'd better go. Give me a call if she begins to exhibit any new symptoms," the doctor said, standing up from the bed.

"I'm a bit late for work," Beria said. "I'll follow you out."

He shot Tanya a look before they left. One that said, ' _you'd better be very careful, now.'_

As soon as the door slammed shut, she jumped off the bed.

-XXX-

Back at the Empire's New Strategic HQ, two officials didn't show to the latest board meeting. They talked privately instead.

"While I still don't believe it's strategic for us to make a move such as this, you're beginning to make me think that the Empire should be upholding a better code of ethics. So then, go on," the general behind the desk said slowly. "You have one more shot to convince me."

The official in front of him set his palms down against the desk. "Sir, I've already given all of my reasoning. Allow me to present you instead with a hypothetical plan of action; how I think we could retrieve Tanya von Degurechaff with the least casualties possible."

The general sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Go on," he said again.

"Okay. First, we'll send the V601 Aerial Mage Battalion."

"Degurechaff was the captain. You should know that."

"I _do_." The official looked the general in the eye. "Sir, _I_ will head the battalion myself, temporarily."

"...That's an interesting idea."

"Do you not-"

"Well, you haven't been to the battlefield yourself in quite some time. You've been a strategist for years, now."

"I can still pass all of the physical tests. If you want me to run them again, I will. But it needs to be as soon as possible."

The general thought it over for a second. "So you lead the battalion, hypothetically. Then what?"

"We need to gather a little bit of intel. But it's a fair bet to say it's just Lavrentiy Beria's house that we need to find, which will be easy. If we locate Tanya De-"

"But you're just acting on a whim, _assuming_ that you know where she is."

The official's face turned stone-cold. "Where else do you expect her to be? It's more likely than anywhere else, and besides - even if she isn't there, and we aren't able to bring her home, we can still capture Lavrentiy Beria and show the Rus just exactly who they're messing with when they try to take whatever they please from us."

The general hesitated.

"Sir, I'm sorry for pulling this card again, but I need you to understand. She is somebody's daughter. She is barely _twelve years old_. And if she _had_ a father, I'm sure he would be begging and pleading for us to get her back. But her parents are gone, so there's no one to fight for her but us. Do you understand?"

This had made an ice sculpture out of the general. His fingers were half woven together, sticking out straight and rigid like icicles. He didn't know what to say. He was frozen.

"Well...?" The official's eyes began to narrow into a glare. "Will you allow me to defend the honor of our country, and our soldiers? Because we both know the _treaty_ won't be doing it."

With that, the room plunged into silence.

The general sighed. They knew that the 11th of November would be the first day of the Parisii Peace Conference - their official surrender. The resultant treaty would most definitely gut their military, not to mention force them into billions of marks worth of war reparations. What would they be able to accomplish after that? The Empire would never be able to get their ace back, because they'd have no power left.

"...Yes, you may go."

"Sir, thank y-"

"Wait." The general put up a hand. "Listen to me carefully, now. Don't forget you need a complete strategy plan and risk assessment. I want them drafted and in my hands by tomorrow if you're serious about this. And please make an attempt to confirm whether or not Degurechaff is at that location before you see me again."

A nod. "If you approve the documents, we'll need to go the same day. That will already have been two nights."

"That's fine."

The official stood from his seat and gave a salute. "Thank you, sir. You won't regret this decision. And we won't let Tanya von Degurechaff down."


	10. Part X

_A/N: I've been staring at this chapter way too long. Time to just post it!_

 _If you're feeling confused about who the people in this chapter are, I swear it's supposed to be confusing. In time this will all make more sense._

* * *

The Empire had not been kept in the dark about Tanya von Degurechaff. The strategists understood that this would have the potential to raise skepticism of their decisions, but it was for the sake of the entire city. The people had to understand that their lives had been saved through this exchange. They had believed at the time that it could draw people together under the realization that their soldiers were doing anything and everything to defend the Empire.

The public's reaction was much larger scale than anticipated. There was graffiti, protests, even a riot near the south of Berun. Acts of fury over the actions of the Russy Federation, and acts of frustration that the Empire had been forced into this.

The general found himself reading countless letter after letter about the situation. Some citizens were speaking out against the chief strategists - even the emperor himself - for standing by while their greatest military ace was taken hostage. Others defended them, understanding the severity and urgency of the situation. Many letters were desperate calls to action, urging the military to hurry up and destroy the Russy Federation. To do everything in their power to turn the war around. To somehow gain an advantage out of pure spite for the evil that had been done to such a young girl.

"Tanya Degurechaff has essentially become an overnight martyr," the general explained to the board of strategists before him. "She has become a symbol of nationalism."

"Perhaps this is good, then," another general spoke up. "Think about it. We're anticipating a depression due to the reparations, yes? Nationalism is exactly what we need. A will for the people to keep going."

"Maybe. But this is also allowing for a larger ideological grievance between the Empire and the Russy Federation. We could be inspiring wars of future generations if the sacrifice of Tanya von Degurechaff is studied as an event in the history books."

"No country has ever turned a young girl over to a pedophile for the sake of saving a city..." another man grumbled, staring down at the cigar in his hand. " _We'll_ be villains too. We'll be the ones who the decision gets pinned on."

"Well..." The general sighed. "There's still a solution for that. We have the V601 Aerial Mage Battalion preparing for takeoff right now. If they're successful, this whole situation will be described completely differently in the textbooks. It will be a risky, strategic, calculated decision. The only time in history a nation has negotiated with terrorists, then invaded and gotten back their end of the deal within a matter of days."

"Is that really good or bad for our reputation-?"

"It's good," the general nodded. "We'll be a worldwide superpower up until the very end. We'll be remembered for always having a trick up our sleeve. It will bring less negotiations with terrorists in the future."

The room was silent. A few people nodded.

"That is..." the man with the cigar slowly raised it back to his mouth. "...assuming the V601 Battalion is successful in the first place."

-XXX-

Having finally gotten the approval he needed, the official looked over his temporary mage battalion. V601. They all stood below him in neat lines, arms behind their backs, spines straight as flagpoles. Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff had done a good job training them back in the day. Even when she was fresh out of the war college, her skills had always been top-of-the-line.

"Tanya von Degurechaff," the official began, "has been your captain for a couple of years now, yes?"

"YES, SIR!" It came in one loud, perfectly synchronized answer.

"And you respected her?"

"YES, SIR!"

"And you fought with her?"

"YES, SIR!"

"And she may have been a young girl, no more than ten or so when she led you all for the first time, but you accepted her and showed her your loyalty, yes?!"

" _YES, SIR!"_

These people had a personal connection to Degurechaff. He could see it in all of their faces.

"Well..." The official began to pace along the platform. "Your leader, captain, major...sister in arms. She's a hostage to the brigadier general of the Russy Federation. How does that make you feel?"

A silent room. Reactions were beginning to differ now. Some of the men furrowed their eyebrows. Others' expressions softened.

The official stopped pacing for a moment, his back to the group below him. "...Men, what do you think the brigadier general of the Russy Federation _wants_ with Tanya von Degurechaff?"

More silence. The air began to thicken with a strange sort of tension.

"Let me tell you something." He turned around and continued to pace. "The New Strategic HQ received a telegram today. It was from Lavrentiy Beria. It was mocking."

He let that add to the thickness of the air before continuing.

"I can still perfectly recite what it said. It was only two lines."

They all stared at him now. Waiting in anticipation. Waiting to hear of their sister in arms.

The official took a breath. "It said, ' _Thank you for the lovely gift the other day. Like her home country, she only learns her lessons after they've been bruised into her skin.'"_

He allowed that to sink in. It took about two seconds of processing before the room broke into chaos.

"I'm going to kill that bastard..." a tall, dark-haired man growled from the front, smashing his fist into his palm.

"Weiss, no. Let us all get a couple of shots at him," another added.

Around them, the other men had broken out into similar conversations.

"GIVE ME BACK YOUR ATTENTION!" The official yelled from the stage.

They all quickly silenced and got back into position.

"I never said _anything_ about killing Lavrentiy Beria. We will capture him for trial, situation permitting. After all, he may have committed crimes against humanity that Tanya von Degurechaff could attest to. However, our first and foremost priority is to rescue our soldier, understand? If touching a single hair on Beria's head requires adjusting the plan, we leave him be."

Their eyes screamed silent protests, but they didn't dare object.

"If anyone gets any big ideas and defies these orders anyway, I remind you that that is treason, and is eligible for punishment by firing squad." He sighed. "But I've gotten beside my point. We are going to save Tanya von Degurechaff today. Failure is not an option. Do you hear me?!"

" _SIR YES SIR!"_

"Good. Then it's time to gear up."


	11. Part XI

_A/N: Hey guys! I haven't abandoned this story! I guess I have some explaining to do, though. The truth is, I haven't updated this in a while because it creeps me out. Yes, I'm the one who wrote it (and I actually finished the story in September or October) but...reading it back is tough. It's very dark. Nonetheless, the conclusion must come. So, without further ado, here's the next chapter._

* * *

It wasn't until Lavrentiy Beria left for work the following day that Tanya allowed herself to cry. She let the tears build up in her eyes and spill over. Allowed the sobs to break from her throat.

She beat her fists against the broken bathroom door. Smashed her knuckles into it so many times that a new crack began to branch off of the pre-existing one, and the broken hinges strained even more to keep the structure from collapsing.

Alas, she was small, and her punches didn't carry that much power.

Once that action had been exhausted, she decided to take a bath. If there was a best time of day, it would be when Beria wasn't home. She wouldn't have to worry about the fact that the door didn't shut properly anymore, and that the lock was broken.

Her hair, a glance toward the mirror revealed, was even more matted and messy than before. She leaned over the sink and tried to collect her thoughts.

The previous night, Beria had come home late.

-XXX-

It wasn't until about eleven PM that he'd walked through the door, looking completely worn out.

"You should be in bed," he growled, as soon as he'd spotted her standing in the closet. "What are you doing, anyway?"

"I'm looking for my clothes," she said.

"You left your dress on the bathroom floor."

"My _real_ clothes," she had the nerve to say.

"Your imperial-? Oh, no. You won't be finding that. It's not here."

"Where did you put it?"

"You won't be putting on an imperial uniform in the Russy Federation, unless you wish for death."

That didn't sound too bad, actually. Tanya didn't say anything, though.

"Get in bed."

"Don't you dare-"

Without another word, Beria stepped forward and took a fistful of her hair. He pulled her toward the bed and pushed her by the shoulders down onto it.

Tanya scrambled out of his grip and was just about to make a run for it when he sighed.

"Relax! I'm not going to do what you're thinking. Not right now."

That didn't change her desire to leave as soon as possible, but she forced herself to freeze and listen to the rest of what he had to say.

Beria pushed her down again, onto her side of the bed, and walked back to the closet to get some night clothes. "You'd better still be lying there when I get back. Don't worry a little blond hair on your head; nothing will happen to you tonight."

A question hung in the air, then.

 _When, exactly, will something happen?_

"And tomorrow night? The night after that? What then?" She asked.

"Tomorrow night."

"What?"

"I won't be late for work tomorrow, so I won't have to work late."

Tanya sucked in a breath and held it.

"So, tomorrow night. Just wait a little longer, okay? Then we can-"

" _No!_ " She shook her head. "Stay the fuck away from me, bastard."

"The fact that I've allowed you to talk to me this way for two straight days without so much as a broken bone is pure luck on your part," he called from inside the closet, voice slightly muffled. It was so odd, how nonchalant he'd made the conversation out to be. "You've only been in such good graces with me because I love you."

" _No…_ You don't."

"Tomorrow night, my sweet girl. Make yourself pretty for me, won't you?"

-XXX-

That is what he'd said.

Tanya's hands balled into fists.

'Tomorrow night' was _tonight_.

"Okay...okay...a plan. I need to make a plan," she told herself. "So I need to get rid of all of this emotion if I want to think straight. I need to...just get _rid of it…_ "

But no matter how much she cried, she wasn't feeling better. At least, not _much_ better. How did people just dump all of the despair from their minds at once? Even if it was dramatic or dangerous, she was willing to try the fastest method. She just couldn't think straight through all of this misery, and she couldn't see straight through all of these tears.

She was watching her pitiful reflection mock her when an idea finally came to mind.

Tanya punched the mirror with all of her might.

A spiderweb of cracks exploded from the epicenter of the pressure: a shockwave of rings, woven together through thin, strand-like breaks. Tiny crystals of glass rained out in all directions.

" _Fuck_ …" she pulled her hand away slowly.

Blood immediately began to flow down her hand. Shards of glass stuck out of deep gashes. She knew it wasn't true, but it felt like they had lodged themselves right into the bone.

She took a few deep breaths, listening to the _plip, plip, plip_ of blood hitting the tile floor. The droplets made a slightly higher sound when they landed on the shards of glass. Tanya held her hand close to her chest and inspected her reflection again through the ruined mirror.

Admittedly, she did feel better. Aside from still breathing heavily, the pain washed away the anger. It was as if her misery was flowing out through the blood, spreading out across the tile floor around her feet.

"Good riddance…" she mumbled to herself.

She dug single-handedly through the cabinets until she found a pair of tweezers, then sat down on the side of the bathtub and began to slowly extract each and every little shard of glass. It didn't take long to realize her hands were shaking. It took about twice as long as it should've, but there was no getting around it. She had to get the glass out.

Once that was over and done with, she turned the bathtub faucet to cold and ran her hand underneath. The water poured red into the tub.

Tanya thought about her plan of action. What was she going to do to avoid a disastrous fate tonight…? She needed some way to defend herself. Some way to escape…

Her eyes wandered to the shards of glass on the floor. Most were small, and some were just tiny specks of glitter. Damn, none looked like they would work. She looked up at the mirror itself. Some of the pieces adjacent to the middle of the break - isolated into sections thanks to the web of cracks that had formed - would probably suffice as weapons. That is, if she could pry them from the mirror.

Tanya stood up and walked out of the bathroom, unconcerned that the bathtub faucet was still running. She came back a moment later with her good hand wrapped in a towel. The mirror was black on the inside, underneath all of the glass. She slowly touched her wrapped fingers to this blackness and began to wedge her hand under a particularly large chunk of glass. It was half a foot long, about an inch and a half wide.

Its jagged edge hurt a little, but she winced and pushed through the pain. Eventually, the piece broke away from the rest of the mirror. It slipped from her hands and clattered to the sink. About two inches broke off of the bottom end, but it would still work just fine.

For the first time in a few days, Tanya grinned. She picked the mirror shard up from its newly broken end and turned the towel inside out so that it served as a makeshift handle for the blade.

"...This'll do. This'll work fine." She grabbed a few tissues off the counter and wiped off her right hand, which had begun to drip with blood again, and walked out to the bedroom. She lifted her pillow and set the blade underneath.

Tanya's grin widened a bit further as she stepped away. _Finally_ , something that would give her some essence of _power_ again. Something that she could use to defend herself with. Something that could save her.

Of course this was the best hiding spot for the knife. But she knew that her only opportune moment to attack Beria with it would be…

Yes, well. It was a risk. A _huge_ risk. She knew that. But there were no better options.

Still, Tanya shuddered at the thought. At what events may have to occur for her to get a clear shot at him. How much might have already happened before he'd finally stop breathing.

This mirror shard was her only shot, and tonight her final chance.


	12. Part XII

_A/N: Alright everyone, it's time for me to get serious and upload the rest of these chapters. I'll try to put another one up tomorrow!_

* * *

Tanya woke up to the sound of a door opening.

Her blood ran cold in that very instant. She was completely disoriented, and decided that the first thing she needed to do was take in her surroundings.

Oh, that's right. She'd fallen asleep in the bathtub. How long had it been…? A couple of hours?

"Tanya, my sweet girl...where are you?" She heard him call from the bedroom.

Shit, shit, shit, shit. She didn't have much time. The bathroom door didn't lock. The bathroom door didn't lock. The bathroom door-

The bathtub water was cold, and it had turned a rancid shade of pink. She'd completely forgotten to bandage up her hand, or do anything about it, really. She'd just run a bath for herself, washed her hair with her good hand, and rested for a moment to shut her eyes.

Tanya scrambled to her feet, vision blurring for a moment as a headrush overtook her. She tripped over the side of the tub and grabbed the counter for support, her hands landing on a piece of glass.

" _Shit,_ " she hissed.

"Tanya? Where have you run off to, my love?" Despite his word choice, Beria's voice was more serious this time. There was frustration to it.

She didn't say anything. Didn't want him to come in. She just grabbed the tweezers and pulled the glass from her palm without hesitation. Then she wiped it off with a tissue.

"Tanya. Where are you?" He wasn't too happy now. "Don't hide from me."

"H-hold on. I'm in the bathroom," she called out.

"I'm coming in-"

" _Don't_!" She took a breath. "I'll be out in a second."

Everything would go wrong if he walked through the bathroom door. What exactly would he make of the whole sight? A bathtub filled with blood, a broken mirror, blood and glass covering the floor. Tanya's swollen, mangled hand. And of course, to top it all off, she wasn't wearing anything at all.

Tanya spotted the towel she'd covered her hand with earlier. She wrapped it around her body, realizing there wasn't much to be done about the dark red patches of blood that covered it - or that her hands were now smearing even more across -and turned toward the door.

Beria threw it open. "Tanya, when I call for you, you answer the first-"

He froze as he took it all in.

His eyes saw the blood on her towel first. Then her hands. Then the mirror behind her. Then the floor. Then the bathtub. She hadn't even noticed before that there were handprints of blood across the white porcelain edges.

"Y-y…" He couldn't even get an entire word out.

Tanya took a few steps away from him. She went as far as she could before her back hit the counter.

"You...little _сука!_ "

She furrowed her eyebrows at that. It sounded like 'súka'. And, as it was with most Russian words, Tanya had no idea what it meant.

He stepped into the room. Holding her towel up with one hand, Tanya put up an arm to defend herself, but he just swiped her to the side with his arm and she hit the wall with a slam.

Beria inspected the mirror carefully, then stomped over to the bathtub and emptied the water. "Why did you do this?! Hm?!"

She didn't answer him. Didn't know what to say, or even how to explain it. Just slowly stood back to her feet, clutching the towel as tight as she could.

"I bring you into my home, I offer you so much hospitality. I give you clothes to wear, my bed to sleep in. And this is how you repay me?

Again, Tanya couldn't answer. She had nothing to say.

"You were trying to...to kill yourself, weren't you?"

"What?! N-no-"

"There's blood _all over_ my bathroom! You were sitting in the bathtub trying to bleed out! How could you do this to me - how could you leave this for me to come home to?!"

"It was an accident…" Tanya said quietly. She looked down at her hands, clutching the towel. Her knuckles were beginning to bleed again. Her hands were still wet, causing the blood to drip down onto the towel. "...I…"

"You've lied to me already. Why should I believe anything you say?"

"Do you really think I would kill myself? Do you really think I would ever stop fighting you?"

"Taking yourself away from me is the ultimate resistance." His expression suddenly softened. "It's my worst nightmare for anything to happen to you, my love." He took a few steps toward Tanya, and her shoulders stiffened. "Shh, shh… Don't be scared." He put a hand on the damp skin of her cheek. "Tanya...my dear girl...the moment you're taken away from me is the moment I lose my most valued possession. You can never, ever be replaced. You know that, right?"

 _Possession._

She looked away. "...I wasn't trying to kill myself..."

Beria sighed. "I don't know why I expected you to be honest with me about it. So it doesn't matter." He wrapped his arms around her. Tanya's whole body went rigid, but she couldn't seem to weasel her way out of his grip. "I love you, my sweet little girl. Let's get you something to wear to bed, hm? Then I'll wrap your hand for you."

Just like that, he let go and led her, hand on the middle of her back, out of the bathroom. Tanya took care to step over the broken glass, but she heard it crack under Beria's work shoes.

He led her into the walk-in closet, tracking tiny shards of glass over the hardwood as they went. It was strange that he didn't notice, or care. It was like he was in some kind of hyper-focus state, despite the slight smile on his lips. Tanya's throat tightened up. Maybe she was thinking too hard into this.

After all, he hadn't found out about the glass under the pillow. So everything was still okay.

Beria looked through the clothes for a minute or two before pulling out a specific hanger.

It was a nightgown, similar to the pink one, but a royal blue color. It was a little longer than the last, and had black lace around the edges.

"..." She stared at it with half-lidded eyes. "Why so...feminine?"

"Feminine?" He laughed. "You're a girl."

Beria pulled it off the rack and held it out to her. "Here."

Tanya's only free hand was the one that was still bleeding. She looked at him confusedly.

"I can help you change-"

"N-no, that won't be necessary." She switched her bloody hand to the towel and took the nightgown. As much as she didn't like it, she really did want some clean clothes, and it wouldn't be pleasant for them to be streaked with blood. "C-can I...uhm…" She really didn't want to have to ask for it, but what else was there to do? "...A clean pair of underwear?"

He snickered. "Oh, no. You don't wear that with _this_ kind of nightgown, sweetie."

She didn't even bother to hide her grimace before running off toward the bathroom again.


	13. Part XIII

Tanya took a few deep breaths in the mirror.

 _I can do this. I can do this._

 _It'll be fine._

 _He won't get a chance._

 _I'll kill him before…_

Before anything can happen.

She allowed the towel to drop around her feet and reached for a roll of toilet paper under the cabinet. Before anything else, she wrapped her hand in a decent amount of toilet paper and pulled it tight with her teeth. She grimaced in pain, but knew it would stop the bleeding sooner if she was putting more pressure on it.

Tanya then stepped into the dress and pulled it up around her body. It was better than the towel, but…

God, she _hated_ it.

She hated the damn black trim. She hated the way it was form-fitting. She hated the way that this color must've been so carefully selected, because of the way it looked with her eyes.

She hated that there had been strawberry-scented shampoo sitting on the counter, ready for her to use. She hated that Beria had clearly went out and bought all of these outfits for her in advance before she even set foot in his house. She hated how he had brought sedatives with him when he went to the Empire to take her.

She hated how he could beat her and not think twice about it. She hated how he had pinned her down against the bed and nearly managed to get her stockings off. She hated how it had taken her to start showing signs of a concussion to get him to stop.

She hated how he had pushed her down on the bathroom floor. She hated how he had put his hand on her thigh. She hated that he had almost gotten that hand under her nightgown.

Tanya absolutely _loathed_ the man. She couldn't wait for him to die.

She grabbed a hairbrush - the one Beria had used on her the other day - and yanked it through her hair. It was still a little bit damp, but she didn't try to methodically work out the tangles; just ripped the brush through, allowing the pain to draw tears from her eyes. It didn't matter. It made her feel a little better, actually.

Once her hair was completely brushed out, Tanya set the brush down on the counter and looked herself in the mirror. She tried to raise some determination from herself. She looked at the bruises on her face, and her black, swollen eye.

 _Look at you,_ she told herself.

 _Don't be so pathetic._

 _Kill him._

She took one last deep breath before stepping out of the bathroom. Beria was sitting on the side of the bed, holding a roll of gauze, some scissors, and a couple of other things. He patted the space next to him.

Tanya hesitantly sat down. He took her injured hand in his and began to pull her makeshift bandage off. "Sweetie, this won't suffice. You see how it's already bleeding through?" He wrapped it once, twice, in actual gauze, and then cut and secured it in place.

Beria covered her hand with both of his. "There you go, my love. How does that feel?"

"You're hurting me," she muttered.

He eased up his grip. "My dearest apologies."

There was a moment of complete silence and still.

Tanya yanked her hand back with a sudden wave of fury. She was sitting on the side of Beria that was closer to the foot of the bed, nowhere near her pillow. She needed to somehow secure it within arm's reach, if she wanted to be sure she could pull this off.

"I would like to go to sleep now."

"To sleep…?"

"Yes."

Tanya hopped off the bed and walked around him, then sat down again next to her pillow. She turned her back to Beria for just a second to pull down the covers, when she felt one of his hands reach around and grab her.

Yeah, she knew it wouldn't really be that easy.

She was pulled backward and then thrown down against the bed. He was so much bigger than her, it had all been one effortless swoop.

Tanya forced her gaze to the side as he towered over her. If she reached, she could probably still push her hand underneath the pillow. But even now wasn't the right time. His guard was still too high.

"It's not time to sleep, my love. You know that."

"You'll regret it if you do this, Beria." She mumbled the words through gritted teeth.

He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Why do you say that?"

Silence.

"Hm?" He put his hand on her cheek and turned her head to look at him. "Do tell me."

"Because I will never stop resisting you," she spat. "You think this is going to change anything? Your punches and kicks have done nothing to break me down. I will resist you forever. The harder you try, the harder I will defy you, and the more hell I'll bring."

"Oh, my sweet little girl…" he leaned down - she knew what he was trying to do - just to find that his lips were met with the palm of her hand. "You really overestimate your own abilities. This will be the last time you resist me."

He grabbed her by the wrists and pushed them down into the mattress on either side of her head.

Tanya cursed herself out internally. How the hell was she supposed to reach her weapon now?

She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt him kiss her forehead. Her heart was drumming a rapidfire beat, and she could feel it everywhere in her body. It wedged itself up inside of her throat until she couldn't seem to breathe anymore.

" _Anata ga shindeshinau…_ " she heard herself squeak.

Beria didn't pay it any mind. "Considering the mirror in the bathroom is broken, dear...I imagine you've seen yourself in it. Don't you realize...you're not the same as you used to be?"

Her glare softened a little, but she didn't say anything. Just stared up past his head toward the center of the ceiling.

"Tanya von Degurechaff," he smirked, sitting back up straight, letting go of her arms. He set his glasses on the bedside table and began to unfasten his tie.

Tanya drew her arms back and wrapped them around herself.

"Recipient of the Silver Wings badge, once known as the White Silver by her country, and the Devil of the Rhine by the world. Overtime, that title changed to 'Rusted Silver', because of all the blood that she'd spilled." He looked down at her. "And...what are you now, hm?"

Tanya stared up at him. She grabbed the bottom of her nightgown and pulled it a little lower.

He smirked. "Women in the military...they're useful for a small range of things, my love. Don't take it personally. They just run their course of military use, and then they're better for other things. Sometimes, they were better for other things to _start_ _with…_ You're a special one, dear."

Tanya's eyebrows furrowed.

"You're a powerful force of nature, brought to us by surely none other than God himself. You're a beauty to look at, and you've radiated confidence to the very end. But...alas, all women can be tamed. Even if they contain a little bit of venom. You...you just don't know when to stop baring your teeth, even when your fangs have already been torn out."

Beria sighed slowly. His tie came loose around his neck, and his right hand suddenly came to rest on her thigh. Tanya's whole body tensed.

"It's not that complicated, my dear." His hand slid up about two inches. "It's formulaic, really. I've seen the transformation with my own eyes. You are still just a wild little creature, but when I make you mine…"

The hand came up another inch. It was awfully close now, resting on the inward curve of her leg where her femur was just about to reach the joint of her hip. If the hand moved any higher, it would be-

Tanya grit her teeth together, trying to ignore the horribly sour feeling in her stomach. She fought back tears as they tried to form in her eyes and very slowly began to slide her hand underneath the pillow. If he would just lean a little farther forward...she would have a clear shot.

Beria's left hand came to rest on the side of her face, thumb gliding over her cheek. "Once I make you mine...you'll realize your true purpose in this world. You weren't put on the earth to be a soldier, sweetie. You were put on the earth to be _mine for the taking._ "

Tanya's hand wrapped around the makeshift handle of the blade.

Now.

She pulled it out and plunged it as hard as she could - hand shaking, a terrible _slice_ sound resonating - into Beria's side.

He didn't scream. At least, not at first. He just sucked in a breath. Maybe he thought he'd been punched, because he didn't seem too alarmed until he saw the shard of glass sticking out of him.

"T-anya… y-you?!"

She pulled, but it didn't come out at first. Not until he sat up and scrambled off of her did it manage to come loose. Tanya never let go of that shard, holding it up in front of her as she quickly sat herself up. She bit her lip and pulled her nightgown back down.

"I...I…" He didn't have much to say, trying to cover the wound with his hands. Blood oozed out from between his fingers.

"Does it feel good?" Tanya asked, a small smirk rising over her face.

She had done it.

"Does it feel good to be bleeding, Lavrentiy Beria?" She slowly got off the bed, watching him very carefully, blade still raised in her hand. Tanya's hands, legs, voice - everything was shaking. But it didn't weaken her composure. It added to her ragged ferocity.

"I...can't... _believe_ this!" He roared. "You little _сука!_ I've done everything for you!"

"You've done absolutely _nothing_ for me," she seethed. "And now...and now…" she stepped toward him with the blade.

There was a loud crash from the front of the house. Like a door being slammed open. Like a thunderstorm of footsteps. Like the yells of men.

" _You're going to die!_ " Tanya screamed, just as the bedroom door was thrown wide open.

She turned to see a crowd of men - familiar faces with unfamiliar expressions of horror - standing in the doorway. They seemed to be stunned.

Silence filled the room.


	14. Part XIV

The shard of glass nearly dropped from Tanya's hand. She - she couldn't _believe_ it.

At the front and center of them all, Colonel Rerugen. Beside him was Weiss, Viktoriya, Grantz, Neumann, Koenig…all of her men. Every single one of them was alive.

Beria made a break toward the bathroom. She wasn't sure what he expected would help him there, but it was the only accessible room that wasn't occupied by Imperial soldiers.

Tanya sprinted after him, raising her bloody blade as she ran. She only got about halfway across the room before a pair of hands wrapped around her body and pulled her back.

" _DON'T TOUCH ME!"_ she screamed as she was lifted off her feet and pulled backward. Beria sprinted away, just out of her reach. Another pair of hands came in and pried the glass from her grip. " _STOP! STOP I NEED IT I-"_

" _Degurechaff!_ " It was a low, male voice. Not as low as Beria's. "It's _okay_. We've got you."

She strained her head around to see who it was.

Colonel Rerugen.

His expression was one of abject horror. "It's _okay_. Alright? There's no need to scream."

She took a few deep breaths. He didn't let her go, but he did lower her feet to the ground. Tanya didn't bother trying to hold herself up. Just brought him down with her as she slid to the floor.

Another soldier knelt in front of her. It was Viktoriya, with the most solemn expression Tanya had ever seen her wear. "...Captain…"

Tanya's glare softened a little bit. She didn't dare look up at the others, or else she knew a wave of utter humiliation would follow suit. "Viktoriya...you're alive."

She nodded her head. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Tanya looked up at Rerugen, who was kneeling on the floor to keep a grip on her. "H-he told me you were all killed after I arrived in the capital."

Colonel Rerugen's eyebrows furrowed. "That isn't true."

Tanya looked down, and that's when she realized that Viktoriya was the one who'd pried the piece of glass from her hands. She was holding it carefully by the towel it was wrapped in, but her hands were bleeding from the initial struggle.

"...I'm sorry that you cut your hands on that…" she sighed.

Viktoriya shook her head, beginning to smile. "It's okay." The words came out with a little bit of a chuckle. "I'm just so glad we have you back."

"You're the one who's worried about _us?_ " Another man knelt down to Tanya's level. Weiss. "Captain, you're not looking too good yourself, you know."

Tanya hadn't even noticed them go in, but it was in that moment that Neumann and Koenig came out of the bathroom, both holding Beria by one arm. He was bleeding from the mouth, looking a little dazed. Blood from the stab wound had seeped all the way through the side of his shirt down to his waist.

"Come on," Rerugen said, standing Tanya up to her feet. "We're going to leave this room while they take care of him."

"No…" She shook her head. "Let me do it."

"I don't mean he's going to die. He'll be taken back to the Empire-"

"And then what?"

Colonel Rerugen took a breath. "Lieutenant Colonel, you should calm-"

"What's going to happen to him?!" She whipped her head around to look at Beria. His head was bowed slightly, but he was still looking up at her. A smirk was beginning to spread across his lips.

She tried to make another lunge for him, but was suddenly scooped up into Rerugen's arms. He pulled her in toward his body and walked out of the room. Viktoriya followed suit.

Rerugen set her down on the steps in the foyer. Tanya pulled down the end of her nightgown as the two knelt down in front of her again.

Viktoriya turned to Rerugen. "Do you think I could talk to her alone for a moment?"

He seemed to understand. Rerugen gave a nod and stood up, before walking back up the stairs to meet with the others.

"Captain." Viktoriya's voice was very soft and delicate.

It was starting to get on Tanya's nerves, the way she was being pitied like this.

Viktoriya looked her up and down, then picked up Tanya's wrapped hand. Red splotches were starting to bleed through where her knuckles were. "Are you okay?"

Tanya nodded slowly, looking down at her hand.

"Do you _feel_ okay?"

She gave a nod. Neither one of them believed it, but what else was she going to do?

Viktoriya didn't bother to push it. "I don't know what was happening before we got here...but I feel like we were lucky to enter when we did."

Tanya nodded again. "Yes. That is probably true. Though if you'd just been a few minutes later, I'd have been able to kill him."

Viktoriya stared down at the floor for a moment. When Tanya looked back up, she could see Viktoriya's eyes were teary. "...I'm so glad you're okay…" Her voice cracked.

Tanya didn't know what to say, so she stayed silent.

Viktoriya hugged her then. "I'm so sorry this all happened, captain… I'm so sorry…" Her voice went silent after that, but Tanya could feel the rapid convulsing of her chest.

"Don't cry."

"..."

"Serebryakov, don't cry."

Viktoriya couldn't seem to bring herself to say anything. She just squeezed a little tighter, until Tanya winced in pain. The bruises on her chest were screaming out for mercy.

"Serebryakov...please." Dammit. All this melancholy and sentiment...it wouldn't be long until Tanya was pushed over the edge too. She could feel it welling up in her throat. She couldn't tell if it was sadness, or relief, or anger, or something else entirely. It just felt like a huge knot in her chest that was dying to be gotten rid of.

"We love you, captain. We're all so glad you're okay."

Tanya wanted to run and hide her face, but there was nowhere to go. She was locked into Viktoriya's arms like a vise. "...Da-ammit, Serebryakov…" Her voice cracked.

Some silence.

"...Thank you for finding me."

"I hope we didn't keep you waiting too long," Viktoriya said, her voice trembling slightly. "But you know we'll _always_ find you, captain."


	15. Part XV

_A/N: I'm gonna be honest, I didn't know what Lavrentiy Beria acted like at all before I saw the Youjo Senki movie. I knew about him as a character from reading the Wikia and wrote this story with my best guess as to what he might act like. Well... he's just as crazy and creepy as I suspected. Hopefully he never attempts anything like this story in canon!_

 _Anyway, sorry for taking so long to upload. And just to clarify, this isn't the last chapter. One more comes next. So keep an eye out for the final update!_

* * *

Pretty soon, all of the other members of the V601 Battalion were back out in the foyer. One man was speaking through an encrypted radio channel, relaying the mission so far to the members of the new HQ.

The official - or, as we should say now, Colonel Rerugen - tried not to look too hard at Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff. She had her face in her hands when they all came down the stairs. Serebryakov had definitely been crying.

He couldn't help but wonder what they'd said to each other. What Degurechaff could have done to put Serebryakov in such a state. Maybe she'd just told the truth about what happened to her.

He wasn't sure he ever wanted to hear that story.

But Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff would probably never tell the full truth. No, he didn't imagine so. She would try to pretend this had all never happened. Only time would tell if that was really possible.

"Colonel Rerugen," Grantz came over to him. "When we get back to HQ, what are we doing with Lavrentiy Beria?"

"We'll put him in the holding bunker for prisoners of war."

"And…" His voice went quiet. "What about our captain, sir…? What's going to happen to her when we get back?"

Rerugen wasn't quite sure how to answer that. "I...she'll certainly be admitted to the hospital. When she'll come back into service, I can't say. But you have to consider one thing." He set his hands behind his back. "Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff has _always_ come back into service, after every injury she's sustained. Who's to say this will prove to be different?"

Grantz nodded at that. "I certainly hope so, sir. I'm not sure this is entirely comparable to those other scenarios, though. There's a mental element to it…"

Rerugen put a hand on Grantz's shoulder. "Listen, lieutenant. I've seen Degurechaff in action since she was barely nine years old. I've seen her spirit in many forms. It's unbreakable."

That made Grantz smile. "...Good to hear, sir."

Rerugen patted his shoulder and turned back to the group. "Alright. Are we ready to go?"

"Yeah," the man with the radio headset on gave a thumbs-up. "I'm all done relaying the mission."

"We just need to get Beria from the bedroom," Weiss said.

"Wait." Rerugen looked around. The staircase was empty. He didn't see that royal blue nightgown around anywhere. "...Where _is_ Degurechaff…?"

"She's right over…" Viktoriya's voice trailed off. "...I don't know."

"Hey." Grantz looked around frantically. "Does anybody have my gun?!"

Rerugen, Viktoriya, and Weiss all exchanged glances for a moment before charging up the stairs.

-XXX-

Tanya managed to sneak away. It hadn't been too hard, actually. Her soldiers acted completely different under someone else's command. Rerugen was of higher military status, but he didn't seem to scare them nearly as much. They weren't on constant guard like they were when led by Tanya.

It wasn't even difficult to take Grantz's rifle. He'd left it leaning against the banister, after all.

Oh well. All the better. She padded up the stairs quickly and stepped down the hall until she was right in front of the master bedroom door.

Tanya took a deep breath. It had only been about half an hour, but it already felt like she was delving back into something horribly dark by setting foot in this room.

 _No. I won't be afraid. I'm going to do this._

She slowly creaked open the door and, shoulders hunched, every muscle stiff, she stepped inside to finish what she started.

Beria was sitting on the floor, his back against the bed. His wrists appeared to be bound behind him, and his ankles were tied together with rope.

He smiled at her as she stepped toward him, dragging the rifle on the floor behind her. The metal bayonet scraped along the hardwood.

"Oh. Hello again, my love."

"Did you really think I wasn't going to get to kill you…?" The bayonet made a low screech as it dragged. Tanya drew closer.

Beria threw his head back against the side of the bed and gave her a downward glance. "I never said anything of the sort, dear." He snickered quietly. "I'll be honest. I'm very impressed. You've done a splendid job throughout all of this. But it's just sheer luck that your friends came to visit in the right moment. I have a pistol in the nightstand. I could have still tamed you."

"You can call a dead horse tamed, but it pulls no weight. What would be the point in shooting me?"

He shook his head. "I couldn't imagine really having to kill you, my dear. Usually staring down the barrel of a gun is enough to make someone drop a short-distance blade."

"..." She didn't have much to say to that. "I fucking hate you, you sick bastard."

He just smiled at her. "Sad."

"What?"

"It's sad that I never got enough time with you, dear. I was so close."

" _So close_ , huh?" She whipped the gun up against her shoulder and stared at him through the sights. "Just as close as my finger is to pulling this trigger?"

"Just as close," he nodded.

' "Is this your admittance of defeat?"

"Well, no." He laughed, a little louder than before. "This is still not the worst thing that could have happened to me. Killed by my true love, Tanya von Degurechaff. What a way to go out, don't you think?"

"You'll be disappointed, I assure you." Tanya dropped the gun off her shoulder and came a little closer. Now she was looming over him, looking down. "This isn't going to be enjoyable by any means."

"Are you...really not wearing any underwear?" he wondered aloud.

 _SLICE_.

She stabbed her bayonet right between his legs.

Beria's body dropped to the side in agony, a silent scream on his lips as he curled in around himself. He turned his head to look back up at her. His voice was a little shaky now. "...Heh heh...so this is all the action I get, hm?"

Tanya curled in her toes and kicked him onto his back. Then she stabbed the bayonet straight through his stomach. " _What was that?_ "

He seemed to gag for a second, blood spilling out over his lips. "Y-You...know… it's really a shame...that I'm always going to wonder what you feel like from the inside."

" _SHUT THE FUCK UP!"_ Tanya pulled her rifle back up and - in one fluid motion, grabbed the bayonet off the muzzle and plunged it straight down into Beria's throat.

A massive burst of blood erupted from his mouth. She pulled the blade out, and it began to spurt from the hole in his neck like a fountain.

Tanya didn't stop there.

She pulled the blade up into the air and plunged it down into his chest. Then again, and again. All the while screaming " _YOU BASTARD!_ " and " _FUCK YOU!_ "

She could feel it spraying up at her like liquid fire. All of the blood. All of Lavrentiy Beria. The life drained from his eyes almost immediately, but he didn't look dissatisfied with himself. So she kept stabbing and stabbing and stabbing. When would it be enough? When would he regret what he'd done?

Someone took a fistful of her dress and yanked, causing Tanya to stumble. An arm reached around and pulled her back by the chest as another pair of hands worked to pry the bayonet from her grip.

" _Degurechaff_ ," Rerugen's voice growled. "Enough is enough."

She looked around. Viktoriya was holding Grantz's gun. Weiss had the bayonet.

"You can call a dead horse tamed…" she mumbled.

"What?" Rerugen furrowed his eyebrows.

Viktoriya took a step forward. "Captain-"

"But it pulls no weight." Her head tilted to the side, expression evening out to something cold and blank.

"Okay, we need to _go._ This has gotten entirely out of hand." Rerugen gathered Tanya up in his arms again and turned toward the door.

"What are we going to do about Beria?" Weiss asked.

"We leave him," Rerugen replied simply. "Let it serve as a message to the Russy Federation." He looked down hesitantly at Tanya. She had her eyes shut now, a half-grin beginning to show on her face. "A message that Imperial soldiers make terrible hostages."


	16. Finale

_A/N: This has been a dark and sometimes difficult story to write. I'm happy to finally be posting the last chapter. Let me know what you think of it! Thank you all for taking the time to read, and for all of the feedback and support!_

* * *

All they had to do was fly for about an hour and a half, and then they'd have crossed the border of the Empire. From there, they planned to take a train back to Berun and let Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff rest for the remainder of the journey.

This was about half as much flight time as the way there, but it felt like triple for Colonel Rerugen. He'd been the one holding Degurechaff before, so he naturally found himself to be the one holding her now. He felt guilty about passing this duty off to anyone else - especially because he'd been the one so determined to bring her back - so he didn't.

There couldn't be anything too pleasant about being drenched in blood and then stuffed into an insulated jumpsuit, but Degurechaff didn't seem to care. In fact, she seemed quite relieved for that blue nightgown to be covered up, which was fair. It was in this close proximity that he could clearly see the bruising of her skin, and the way it was just slightly cut along the bone under her eyebrow, framing her eye.

Her body trembled. But it was such a rational reaction in Rerugen's mind that he didn't take it as any reflection of her strength. In fact, he found himself shocked that she wasn't shaking _more_. If not out of fear, then out of sheer adrenaline.

Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff didn't speak until they were about halfway to the Imperial border. "Colonel Rerugen, I'll admit… I'm surprised."

He glanced down at her. "Hm? What are you surprised about?"

"I didn't even know you were a mage…"

"Yes, well… I don't have any need to wear a computation jewel as a strategist. It actually took me a bit of time to find mine for this mission. Maybe two hours of digging through old boxes of weapons and uniform materials. When I finally found it and brought it to the general, of _course_ he told me I should be updated with the Elinium Type 97."

A glance down at Degurechaff revealed that that had made her smile a little.

Rerugen huffed and looked forward at the black sky in front of them. A couple of clouds hung low, and they shined silver by the light of the moon. It was almost full tonight - getting brighter and brighter as it made its way toward the shape of a perfect sterling sphere.

"By the way. While you were in that fit of hysteria, Neumann and Koenig found your Elinium Type 95."

"Really?"

He gave a slight nod. "A safe in the basement had everything of yours. Your computation jewel, your uniform, even your assault badge. It's all been recovered."

"Good."

Some silence between them. "...Are you alright?"

"Of course."

"You're not going to launch into any more episodes?"

"No."

"..."

"Thank you, colonel."

"For what?"

"For helping me. I was under the impression you hated me."

Rerugen sighed. "...I didn't trust you. But I've thought a lot about it, and I've realized that you've made some of the greatest sacrifices I've ever heard of. If not just for the sake of basic human ethics...you're every bit worth saving, lieutenant colonel."

She sighed quietly, then said again, "...Thank you, colonel."

-XXX-

He didn't let go of her until they'd all boarded the train.

"Sir, let me take her for the rest of the way," Viktoriya suggested, stepping forward. "You look sort of tired."

Rerugen hesitated at first, but then held out Tanya in his arms toward her. Viktoriya hooked her hands under Tanya and, with a huff of effort, managed to get the girl set sturdily in her arms.

"You got her?"

"Yes. Thank you."

Rerugen gave a nod and, with that, the battalion separated off into individual train car rooms.

Viktoriya stepped into one and managed to slide the door shut with her elbow before sitting down with Tanya in her lap. The nighttime world zipped past them through the window.

Tanya couldn't see city buildings yet, but knew that they'd come up on the horizon eventually.

"All this melodrama," she scoffed. "I can stand and sit up, you all should know." Despite her words, her eyes looked groggy and tired.

"That's okay," Viktoriya shook her head. "I'd rather you try and rest."

Tanya unzipped her jumpsuit slightly, but was suddenly reminded of what she had on underneath. The nightgown itself wasn't what caused her eyes to widen, it was all of the sticky, half-congealed blood. _Lavrentiy Beria's_ half-congealed blood. She gritted her teeth and turned her head up toward the ceiling.

"What's wrong?"

"His blood."

"W-"

"It's all _over me_."

"Don't worry, we'll-"

"It's _all over me._ " Tanya couldn't take it. She pushed herself out of Viktoriya's grip and jumped up from the seat.

Even as a headrush overtook her vision, causing her to see nothing but purple and hear nothing but the blood coursing through her skull, Tanya stumbled to do _something_. She pulled at the constraints of her jumpsuit until the zipper came down to about halfway down her body.

"His blood, S-Serebryakov...his blood."

"I know, I know." Viktoriya sprung up and took Tanya by the arms. "We can't do anything about it right now. Give us an hour to get you to the hospital. Then you can take a bath."

Tanya took a few deep breaths. There was no point in working herself into hysteria over something she couldn't control.

She nodded slightly, gazing off toward the window behind Viktoriya, where she could see her own disheveled face staring back. Her pupils looked microscopic in her eyes.

"A-...alright."

"Captain…listen." Viktoriya wrapped her arms around Tanya in a soothing embrace. "...Nothing matters anymore." She brought the girl over to the seats again and sat her down. "Lavrentiy Beria is _dead_."

Tanya gave her a nod. "Yes. You're right." She ignored the radio static that was seeping into her head. "What did I...miss in the Empire?"

"Well, you were only gone for about three days," Viktoriya said, giving a meek smile. "A building on the other side of Berun has been made into the New Strategic HQ until the old one is restored to proper condition. Other than that...well, you've become pretty famous, actually."

Tanya furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean...you've become a symbol of nationalism. You've made a valiant sacrifice to become a prisoner of war for our country. You're the fallen ace who gave everything for the people of Berun." Viktoriya's smile widened. "You'll be a renewed hero when you get back."

Tanya scoffed slightly at that. "...Interesting. Don't you suppose this will be a short-lived victory, though? Imagine the conflict we've just created with the Russy Federation."

Viktoriya shrugged her shoulders. "I don't really know. As long as we make it to the date of the Parisii Peace Conference, the Rus won't be able to touch us."

"Oh, that's right. The treaty." Tanya sighed. "We may all lose our jobs in the Imperial military."

"We might," Viktoriya nodded. "But perhaps we'll be taken pity on by the Allies. Perhaps the Russy Federation will have to turn around and pay for the crimes they've committed against you."

"Viktoriya, I was just a hostage. Prisoners of war are not against international law."

"It will all be discussed. I'm sure it will." Viktoriya leaned back against the seat. "Everything will be okay, captain. If it wasn't going to be okay, we wouldn't have been able to save you."

Tanya leaned back as well, resting her head against Viktoriya's shoulder. "That's a rather fateful point of view."

"I've always had this belief that God particularly loves you, captain. I know he will do everything in his power to make sure you're okay."

"Heh…" Tanya shut her eyes slowly. She hadn't felt comfortable enough to get a decent amount of sleep ever since she was captured, and now that she was in the company of someone trustworthy, the world was dimming around her. " _God_ … what a fault of man."

Viktoriya raised her eyebrows at that, but a glance down at Tanya revealed that she had already fallen asleep.

"Tanya von Degurechaff…" she sighed, turning to look out the window. The city of Berun was starting to appear over the horizon. A twinge of orange sunlight peeked out over the shadows of the buildings. "Truly unbreakable," she mumbled, as she too gave into sleep.

 **End.**


End file.
